


Spellbound

by LadyLoec



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: 1994 Prison World (Vampire Diaries), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood Sharing, Complete, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Frenemies, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Prison Worlds (Vampire Diaries), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Humor, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 52,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLoec/pseuds/LadyLoec
Summary: An AU of Bonnie and Damon in the Prison World, without Kai, but with a problematic blood shortage that leads to our favourite judgy witch and snarky vampire getting closer than anyone anticipated. Lots of fun and cathartic Bonnie/Damon moments, leading to some very raunchy sex (Fair warning: There are several chapters of nothing but), some fitting angst, and a future noone saw coming.(NB: When I write long fics, I post the whole thing at once, as I go back and edit a lot as I write, so this fic is complete)(NB2: Standard disclaimer, not my characters or setting, I'm just playing in the sandbox)





	1. Chapter 1

Bonnie was absently thumbing through one of the collection of grimoires Damn had apparently amassed in his 1994 library - a result of the lethal combination of murderous prowess, witch obsession, and borderline hoarder tendencies. Her powers were still yet to make an appearance, but she wanted to have all the knowledge she could at her disposal when they did return so they could get home. It had been a long few months - Damon and Bonnie's relationship flitted between relentless bickering and sniping, to outright blazing rows, to ignoring one another for a day or so, right back to bickering. But much as she was loathe to admit it, Bonnie was starting to like the snarky vampire. He had a sixth sense for when she was starting to get despondent, and would do something to distract her (nine times out of ten it was sparking an argument, but sometimes it was getting out and going for a walk, or watching The Bodyguard with her for the hundredth time. Today however, it seemed he was determined to drive her to drink. She felt the whip of movement as he vamp sped past her, grabbing another pile of books and starting to put them away. He abhorred clutter, and he had obviously taken issue with Bonnie's organised chaos of notes and tomes. He normally waited until she had finished for the day to resume his OCD tidying

"I wasn't finished with that one."

"Well at least you'll know where to find it when you need it again if I put it back. I honestly don't know how you find anything. It's like an encyclopaedia factory exploded on my floor."

She gritted her teeth.

"Damon, I had a system."

"So do I, Bon-Bon. It's called 'not living in a book fort like a crazy hermit lady'."

She threw one of the heavier tomes at his head, which infuriatingly he caught mid-air.

"Violent and a slob. What a charmer." He sniffed the book - "You know, I'm pretty sure this one is bound in human skin. Maybe even witch skin. Smells like lotion and judgement."

She angrily flicked the page over.

"Okay, firstly ew, and secondly what does a girl have to do to get some peace and quiet around this museum?"

"You know they keep museums tidy."

"Now you mention it, the dead things in museums are usually quieter...Ow!"

 

The papercut was right on the tip of her index finger. She stuck it in her mouth out of reflex. The blood wasn't exposed to the air for more than half a second, but Bonnie still caught Damon trying to reign in the veins around his eyes. That was odd. He had great control around humans, and she'd almost never seen him vamp out involuntarily. It was the barest of moments and he was back to normal.

"Here, let me see that. You okay?"

"Don't mother me, it's just a papercut. I could ask you the same thing, though. What's with the face?"

Damon plastered a smirk on his face, but Bonnie knew him well enough to see through it. "Well, Bon, you see when a human dies with vampire blood in their system..."

"Cut the crap Damon. You go from being comfortable around murder scenes with the sheriff and visiting hospitals without batting an eye to vamping out over a papercut? Something's up."

He offered her a fake little smile.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." She gave him a look that says she isn't buying it. "Look, It's no big deal. I don't know how long we're gonna be here, so I've been rationing my blood intake. I still have a couple weeks in the current supply if I keep my consumption down."

He was worried about running out. He always made sure she ate well, and cooked for her most days, but she hadn't thought to ask how he was getting his meals. She just assumed he had enough.

"You ran through the supply at Mystic Falls General already?"

He nodded. "They were running real low when we arrived. And I ransacked Grove Hill Memorial a month ago, but they weren't well stocked either. National shortage in '94 if I recall - there was a big campaign for donors with this irritating radio jingle." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I won't be struggling for a while, but I don't know how big this little micro-world dome of ours is, how many more hospitals are in it. And I have the potential of forever hanging in front of me so... Hey, I had this fling with a supermodel one time. She ate nothing but cabbage soup and cubes of feta for months. If she can do that, I can cut back a little."

 

Bonnie felt bad for not noticing before that he was starving himself, but the conversation made her uncomfortably aware that he had a perfectly good, replenishable food source right in the house. She looked down at the papercut on her finger that had mercifully stopped bleeding. She knew it was selfish not to offer him her blood, but all she could think of was how much it had hurt when Damon (and later, Alaric) had torn into her throat. She subconsciously rubbed her neck at the thought.

"Look, I know what you're thinking, and don't. I don't expect that from you. You're my friend... Well, frenemy at least. I won't treat you like a happy meal."

He was looking at her with a kindness she didn't expect, and it was suddenly almost impossible to reconcile the memory of the monster ripping into her throat with the man in front of her.

"You did it before."

His voice was almost a whisper. '"I'm sorry about that."

"Was that an actual apology from Damon Salvatore? Damn, where's a tape recorder when you need one."

He smiled - a genuine smile this time. "Savour it, sweetheart, they're rarer than rocking horse shit."

She couldn't help but laugh, and their not quite friendship was back on familiar ground.

 

The mood had lightened again and Bonnie was grateful, but wasn't ready to leave the topic just yet.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Does it always hurt? When you feed from someone."

An overdramatic sigh. "You are like a dog with a bone, missy. Just drop it."

"Damon..."

"Yes. No. Kind of."

"Well that was eloquent."

"Oh shut up. I'm trying to explain something I haven't been on the receiving end of for a century and a half, so gimme a break if the words aren't pretty."

Damon was such a natural at playing the bad guy, it was easy to forget he was a victim first - Katherine had fed from him regularly for months. Bonnie continued to look at him expectantly for an answer.

"There are a couple of ways to feed without compulsion. The way I fed from you is one, which hurts like a bitch." No arguments from Bonnie. "You use your fangs to tear at the flesh to make the person bleed out faster, so that's what you do if you want someone dead." Bonnie did her best not to look as horrified as she felt. "Vampires are a predatory species, and sometimes we crave that tang the fear gives the blood. Like junk food. But with the risk of exposure, it's not practical 90% of the time. The other way to feed is..." He looked like he was searching for the right words. "Okay so when a drug addict shoots up, it hurts a little at first, right?" Not exactly a metaphor she was familiar with, but better than nothing. She nodded. "But then after the needle is in, it doesn't hurt, and eventually starts to feel good. Really good. There's... Euphoria, I guess is a good word?"

"Euphoria?" Bonnie's tone belied her disbelief.

"Look, if you wanted flowery descriptive and pretty metaphors you came to the wrong Salvatore. Forget the suicide bourbon, I'll dig you out some of Stefan's poetry if you want the motivation to off yourself."

Bonnie ignored the flagrant attempt to derail the conversation and weighed up the pros and cons of her next question. It was something she had been dying to know, but never quite worked up the nerve to ask Caroline or Elena.

"Is it sexual?"

Damon's eyebrows practically hit the ceiling and his smirk was infuriating.

"My, my, Sabrina. If I had pearls, I would clutch them."

"Don't be an ass, I'm running out of things to throw at you."

He looked at her with consideration for a moment before shrugging.

"Always was for me. That might have been because I already had the hots for Katherine though."

"So you prefer to feed from women you're attracted to?"

"You know this is like talking about your trip to the chocolate factory with a diabetic, right?"

"God... I'm sorry. I didn't even think."

 

Bonnie was mortified. She remembered how torturous it was when she was trying to lose a few pounds last summer and all Elena seemed to do was talk about food and suggest hanging out at The Grill, and this was the equivalent for Damon.

"What's with the twenty questions anyway, Bonster? Why the sudden interest?"

"Morbid curiosity, I guess."

"Then how come you never asked Caroline or Elena about this stuff?"

"It's not the easiest thing to bring up in conversation. Plus they only ever drink from blood bags, and Elena had all that traumatic sire bond stuff with drinking when she was new."

Damon winced at that. She guessed he still felt kind of guilty about it. To lighten the tone, she threw out a comment she knew he wouldn't be able to resist biting on. "Why, did you picture sleepovers talking about blood and sex while we model lingerie for one another?"

He flashed one of those smirks that he knew made girls weak at the knees.

"Well I hadn't before, but now... Can we also pretend there were pillow fights?"

She let out a laugh before grabbing her can of soda and taking a swig.

"To answer your last question, yes. That's why I _usually_ choose to drink from women." She raised an eyebrow at the emphasis he put on 'usually'. "What? I'm an open minded guy."

She choked on her soda.

"Really?"

"That's for me to know, and you to have intrusive thoughts about. Did you think I would let you get away scot-free with that slumber party comment?"

She considered slapping him, but thought against it.

"Touché".

"So is your curiosity sated? Can we talk about something that doesn't make my gums ache now?"

_Not even close_. "Yeah, I guess. Movie?"

He jumped off the sofa.

"I'll get the popcorn. But if your selection rhymes with 'The Hobbybard', you're getting a show and tell demonstration of what we've been talking about."

She tried to ignore the slight thrill she felt at his threat.


	2. Temptation

It was a couple of days since 'the conversation', and Bonnie couldn't get the thoughts out of her head. She reasoned to herself that she was feeling guilty Damon was starving himself, and it was her martyr complex telling her to offer up a vein. But the more she found herself thinking about it, the less convincing that argument was. Part of her - the part that woke up screaming once in a while when her nightmares dredged up the memory of him tearing into her jugular - was still terrified of the idea of him feeding on her. But another part was dying to know what it felt like. Even if she could admit it wasn't solely guilt for his restrictive lifestyle, she tried to tell herself the rest was magical curiosity and not lust. Her mind was made up, she just didn't know how to broach the subject. So she went for the tried and true method.

 

"Ow! Son of a bitch!"

She threw the knife down on the chopping board in an imitation of shock. Her eyes avoided looking directly at him as his vampire features rippled across his face before he regained control.

"I swear Bonnie Bennett, you are the clumsiest witch ever to set foot on God's green earth. This is why we eat pancakes - minimal sharp objects involved. Here, lemme see that."

He took her hand and assessed the damage.

"Well, it's not deep, but it'll sting for a while. I know you're not big on using my blood to heal, so gimme a second to find some bandages."

"Thanks."

Her smart little segue into offering him her blood had jumped right out of her head. _Damnit_.

"Yet more reasons to be thankful you're stuck here with me and not my baby bro. Firstly, I can patch you up without ripping your arm off and drinking from it like a crazy straw, and second I'm the better cook, so I might even be able to salvage whatever the hell fiasco you're making here."

"It's risotto."

He bandaged her hand at super speed. It didn't even hurt anymore.

"My family's Italian. This isn't risotto, it's a war crime. At least, it is now you got your witchy blood all over it."

"Thought you might like it better that way."

"Pro tip: People food and vampire food don't mix well. O-neg casserole is not a tempting prospect."

She tried not to show it, but Damon caught her flash of disappointment. Luckily, he assumed it was because the meal was ruined.

"Hey, don't worry. Not the end of the world. If you fancy risotto, I'll knock you up one that'll make your toes curl it's that good."

"What about you?"

"I had my scant quarter of a blood bag this morning, in all its plasticky goodness. It'll keep me going for now. But if you could limit the self mutilation in the name of culinary art, that would be a great help."

"Plasticky?"

"Yeah, the plastic the bags are made of degrades over time and affects the taste. It doesn't contaminate it enough that it causes issues when it's used for surgery and all, but doesn't make for the yummiest lunchable either."

She grimaced. He was barely eating, and what he was getting tasted like trash. Meanwhile, here he was making her a fancy dinner.

"I've been thinking."

"That's dangerous."

"Damon, I'm being serious."

"That's even more dangerous."

"I want you to feed from me."

 

Apart from the spoon clicking on the edge of the pan as he rested it, everything went quiet.

"You're speechless, that's got to be a first."

"I told you before Bon, you don't need to do that. I'll be fine."

"I want to."

He looked up at that.

"You've been... You're the only thing keeping me sane here. And you're scraping by on the equivalent of microwave meals while I get fancy dinners and the highlights of the Salvatore wine cellar every night. It's not right."

"You don't owe me anything."

Bonnie swallowed. Part of her didn't want to ask this question, but she had to know.

"Is it because you aren't attracted to me?"

"Time out. Where the hell did that come from?"

Tears welled in her eyes, though she fought them back.

"That's it, isn't it? Great, I'm literally the last woman on earth and I'm still no-one's first choice." 

"This is a trick question, it has to be." Damon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "There is literally no answer that doesn't make me an asshole. If I say I don't find you attractive, you're upset and it's my fault and I'm an asshole. And if I say I do, I'm betraying Elena, and I'm an asshole." He walked over and took both her hands in his, mindful of the bandages. "So in a probably misguided attempt at diplomacy I'm going to avoid that minefield entirely. Bon, you are my only friend in the world. Best case scenario, I would be using you for food, which is all kinds of fucked up on its own. Worst case scenario, it gets all sexy and awkward and I lose my only friend, and when you eventually super-witch us outta here - which I have every confidence you will - I have to tell my girlfriend I sucked on her best friend's neck and now it's weird. So let's do ourselves a favour and forget this conversation ever happened, and enjoy some truly stellar risotto."

Bonnie couldn't help but smile a little.

"Never thought I would see the day when you were the voice of reason."

"Yeah well don't get used to it. Next time it's your turn to talk me out of the stupid idea, okay?"

"Deal"

 

She stuck out her hand to shake on it, but without realising it was her bandaged hand. The blood had been seeping through the bandage and it was soaking wet. She quickly went to retract it, but Damon caught her, his eyes fixated on the red stain. His veins turned black and his fangs extended hungrily. After a few laborious seconds, his face relaxed and he released her hand, returning his gaze to her eyes.

"You should go rebandage that. I did a piss poor job. Be quick though, dinner's in ten."

She raced to the bathroom, but it wasn't just fear that made her heart beat a little faster.


	3. Let's Get Awkward

Bonnie came downstairs with a slight spring in her step. She was feeling brighter somehow today than she had been, and her renewed optimism wasn't something she was going to waste. She was looking for Damon to ask if he would come with her to spend the day at the falls or the quarry: Somewhere she could more easily access the elements, in case her good feeling was her body's way of telling her her magic was ready to come back. But he hadn't been in his room, which was odd as she was normally the first awake by a good few hours. She was surprised to find him loading some coolers into the trunk of the Camero.

 

"Road trip?"

"Yeah, I was going to see if our little bubble extends to Richmond. Find out if I can scrounge up more blood bags in the city."

"Do you want me to come with?"

"Nope. Figured we could both use a little space. Much as I love me, I know I can be a bit much 24/7 for most people. Besides, you could probably do with some alone time. Have a bubble bath, light some candles, listen to some Marvin Gaye and let your fingers do the walking."

"You're a pig."

"I know."

He had something of a point though, a vampire housemate with supersenses did put a dampener on her ability to scratch that particular itch. She made do when he went on his little runs into town, but wasn't about to tell him that.

"You sure you don't want company?"

"Very sure. You're a terrible shotgun - you change my radio stations."

"Fine. I was gonna head to the quarry for a swim, but I can't find my bathing suit. You seen it?" He laughed. "What's so funny?"

"We are the only people in the world, Bon, and I'm heading a couple hours in the wrong direction. Why bother with a bathing suit?"

She tried to summon up her usual incredulity to object, but found herself agreeing.

"Good point. Catch you later."

She grabbed the keys for Stefan's Porsche and took off, feeling no small amount of satisfaction at the slightly stunned Damon she left on the driveway.

 

Bonnie spent a relaxing day meditating by the quarry, and actually found her skinny dip pretty liberating. No sign of her magic yet, but her witch side definitely appreciated getting back in touch with the elements. She expected Damon to be home first, and was surprised when he wasn't, but settled in with a book to wait for him. It was about 8pm when he finally returned. The door slammed open, but Damon was usually one for dramatic entrances so she thought nothing of it.

"About time, did you get lost? No GPS in 1994. Told you you needed me."

"Not now Bonnie, I'm not in the mood."

She looked up and it was then she noticed he was only carrying one cooler.

"What happened?"

"Cupboards were bare, goldilocks."

"What? There are two huge hospitals in Richmond!"

"Yep, and on snooping through the paperwork it looks like there was a huge multi-car pile up on the interstate May 9th 1994. They used up most of their stock. A delivery was due on the 10th, but obviously never made it in this reality. This was all that was left."

She kept her response light.

"It's fine. We can go a little further afield tomorrow. Pack some bags, make a weekend of it."

"What happens when there is no further afield, Bon? Who knows how deep this particular rabbit hole goes? We're not even 6 months in and I'm already having to travel hours to find blood. What happens in 5 years, 10, 100?"

He poured himself a substantial slug of bourbon and drank it like it was water before pouring another and throwing himself down on the other couch.

 

He was scared, and Bonnie's heart went out to him. Immortality scrounging for your next unsatisfying meal was no life at all. And even though he had shut down her offer of drinking from her before, she still wanted it, though she couldn't explain why. Maybe this would change his mind.

"Don't yell at me for bringing it up, but... The offer is still on the table. About drinking from me."

"Bonnie..."

"Before you mount that high horse think about it for a sec. We're no closer to getting out of here than we were months ago, and don't tell me you're still relying on me getting my magic back because frankly I can't take the pressure. No cavalry is coming for us. You are starving and making yourself miserable out of some weird 1800's sense of chivalry that is frankly absurd considering you were cracking masturbation jokes 12 hours ago. I'm a grown ass woman and I'm not ashamed about sex, so you don't need to protect my virtue or whatever. I'm not so immature that I can't be friends with you even if things get awkward. And the kicker is that this might all be fuss over nothing, because you're assuming it will be the same for me as it was for you and Katherine, but you loved her and frankly I'm just pissed at you for being a caveman right now. So grow a pair and bite me already."

Damon looked at her like she was an alien for a second before cracking a smile.

"That whole 'grown ass woman' bit was kinda hot for a judgy little witch."

She rolled her eyes.

"So is that a yes?"

He smirked.

"C'mere Bon-Bon, let's get awkward." She laughed and went and sat next to him.

"You promise not to do anything too perverted or you-ish?"

"Seeing as you're offering to tap a vein I will ignore that slight against my honour."

"Speaking of, which vein? Do you have a preference?"

"None that would be appropriate in these circumstances." Bonnie fought not to blush. "The best places to drink from are obviously where the blood flows closest to the surface. That also makes them the most sensitive places. Pretty much erogenous zones, hence the sexy vampires trope Anne Rice made her fortune on. So let's play safe and stick with wrist or neck: Ladies' choice."

Bonnie's stomach tightened at the thought of Damon at her neck. The memories of being attacked by him were still an issue, apparently. She raised her wrist, but couldn't hide the slight tremor.

"Hey." He took her wrist and lowered it. "It's okay to chicken out. You're in charge here. I won't judge you. But this won't be like last time, I promise."

His kindness made her remember why she wanted this. She nodded. He gently raised her wrist to his mouth, his ice blue eyes watching hers for any sign of hesitation.

 

As he closed his mouth around her skin, she felt a sharp pinch as his fangs descended softly into her skin, and waited for the pain when he tore into her. But it never came. She also didn't feel her blood being dragged out from every recess as she had before - then she had sworn she could feel her empty veins rubbing together. Instead, her blood pumped normally. Her heart beat once, he swallowed once, repeat. It didn't hurt at all, but didn't feel good either. Certainly not euphoric or sexual. She watched Damon's eyes fall shut as he savoured the taste, half relieved and half disappointed they had been worried over nothing. But soon she was glad his eyes were closed and his attention elsewhere as she started to feel it. Her pulse was hard and steady, and slowly but surely she started to feel the beat of it in her chest, then her stomach, then lower. She stifled a moan as the intensely erotic feeling flooded her core, every draw of her blood feeling like a thrust into her. Bonnie had never felt anything like it. It was like sex in a way, but her whole body was practically vibrating with it. Every nerve in her was on fire and they were all sparking at the touch of his lips on her wrist. She clamped her thighs together to relieve the ache, only to find the tense muscles intensified the pounding thrum under her skin. She was glad he hadn't fed from her neck, as she never would have survived this feeling in such an intimate place. She never wanted it to stop, and just as she felt a familiar tightness winding inside her, she felt the pulsing slow. She almost cried out in frustration when she felt his fangs withdraw, but then his tongue swirled over the puncture wounds and all she could think about was how that tongue would feel elsewhere. His eyelids fluttered open and met hers, and she fought to regain her composure. He released her wrist, and she slowly lowered it.

"Vampire saliva acts as a coagulant, so the licking stops the wounds from continuing to bleed. Sorry, I know it's gross."

_Yeah. Gross. Right..._

"Kinda. Did you get enough?"

He huffed a laugh. "Never".

_That makes two of us_ , she thought wistfully.

"I didn't take too much, did I? You look kind of out of it."

"No, it was fine. You were right - it was nothing like last time."

 

She half smiled, hoping he would be too busy fighting bloodlust or savouring the feeling of being full to catch the change in her scent.

"I have to go put the car in the garage and pack away the blood. You gonna be okay for a few minutes?"

She could've shouted for joy. She didn't think she could cope if she had to sit next to him all night like nothing was wrong with this throbbing ache between her legs.

"I'm good. I'm gonna go change, I think there's quarry dirt in my socks."

"OK. See you in a few. Carbonara for dinner?"

"Sounds great."

She bolted upstairs as soon as he had rounded the corner and it was barely a minute before she was stifling her cries into her pillow as she came, visions of his blue eyes and wicked tongue chasing her over the edge.


	4. A New Man

Screwed. Bonnie was utterly screwed. She had been dodging Damon as best she could for the past couple of days, afraid he would catch the guilt in her eyes. She felt awful for having the thoughts she did about her best friend's boyfriend. She told herself it had been a kneejerk physical reaction to him feeding from her, and that once she relieved the _immediate symptoms,_ things would go back to normal. But when she had gone back downstairs after a quick spritz of perfume and change of clothes, she realised things weren't going to be that easy. She didn't know what she expected when she went into the kitchen, but it was not Damon slow dancing around the kitchen with a spatula, belting along to Prince with his shirt off, completely oblivious to her presence.

" _Could you be... the most beautiful girl in the world?"_ He sang, at least an octave too high and wildly out of tune.

She couldn't help but laugh out loud. He looked up at her and smiled. One of Damon's rare genuine smiles.

"What happened to your shirt?"

"Sacrificed on the altar of culinary arts. I managed to get egg all over it. Don't ask."

"Want me to fetch you another one?"

"Why, am I that distracting?"

"No, the glare of your paleness is blinding and I can't find my sunglasses."

He mimed staking himself in despair with the spatula and she laughed again.

"You're in a frighteningly good mood."

"That is because for the first time in weeks I'm not so hungry I want to gnaw my own arm off, and that is thanks to your kindness Miss Bennett." He added some pepper and tasted the carbonara. "So subject me to as much cheesy Kevin Costner and Whitney as you like. I'll even put on a shirt if it'll make you happy. You get tonight off - regularly scheduled 'being a dick' programming will recommence tomorrow."

A pang of guilt hit her like a wave - she had used him without his knowledge, and now he was thanking her for it. She tried to push it down, but it just made her feel worse. She didn't know how she was expecting him to act afterwards, but it wasn't this - She didn't know how to handle this.

 

She made it through dinner, and they watched The Bodyguard. Damon made his usual snarky comments throughout, but halfway through when he laid his head in her lap she stopped paying attention to anything else. Damon had little to no concept of personal space, and it wasn't the first time they had laid like this, but this time was different at least for Bonnie. He had one hand rested on her thigh and was drawing lazy circles with his fingers, and she thought she was going to combust under his touch, no matter how many times she told herself he was Elena's boyfriend. The credits had barely flashed on screen when she mumbled a curt "goodnight" and practically sprinted to her room.

 

That was two days ago, and she had been dodging him ever since: Taking long walks in the woods, hiding at her grams' place, and generally being anywhere but the boarding house. She had gotten back late from another long hike and jumped straight in the shower. She almost jumped out of her skin when she came out of the bathroom to find Damon laying on her bed reading an old copy of Cosmo she'd picked up on her travels.

"Cute PJ's. You know, this magazine gives terrible sex advice. I should get a job as a columnist."

"I've had a long day and I just want to go to sleep. What do you want, Damon?"

"I'm sorry. All that avoiding me must be very tiring."

"What? Don't be ridiculous I'm not..." He cast her a challenging glance over the corner of the page. "Okay, so I might be avoiding you a little."

"What'd I do? Leave the toilet seat up? Forget to take out the trash? Point out Kevin Costner's very unfortunate receding hairline?"

She smiled despite herself.

"He did not have a receding hairline in the 90's."

"You know Bonster, denial isn't just a river in Egypt."

She laughed.

He scooted over to make space for her on the bed.

"Okay seriously spill, what'd I do?"

Bonnie sighed. She debated staying standing but decided against it. She really was tired after hiking all day. She took the seat next to him, but decided it was safer to sit up cross legged rather than lay back with him.

"You didn't do anything. It's..." Truth? Lie? She settled for a little of both. "When you fed from me, I felt kind of guilty afterwards."

"How come?"

Oh boy. Definitely lie called for here.

"I'm a Bennett witch, my family hate vampires. My grams would have been so disappointed in me."

Damon looked considerate for a moment.

"You don't have to do it again. I'm grateful that you tried, but I wouldn't ask you to go against what you believe in for me."

"No." She said a little too quickly. "I mean, it's what they believe but not what I do. I want to help."

Passing it off as altruistic almost made her feel dirty enough to want another shower.

"So can you stop skulking around like I'm a leper now? I was thinking of seeing if the bowling alley works in this hellhole."

"Sounds like fun. Count me in." She forced a smile.

"It's a date. Prepare to have your ass kicked. Well, I suck at bowling, but I have no issues with underhanded tactics."

He sprung up and headed for the door.

"Damon?"

"Yes milady?"

"When will you next need to..."

"Don't sweat it. I can eke it out a couple more days. Night Bon."

She his her disappointment until the door snicked shut.

 

Turns out he cheats at bowling as well as Monopoly.


	5. Let's Be Adults About This

When a couple of days had passed, Bonnie could tell that Damon was definitely thirsting again. He couldn't wait much longer, and truth be told neither could she. Bonnie had done a lot of thinking in the past couple of days, and she had come to the conclusion that if she was going to be the worst friend in the world to both Elena and Damon, she wasn't going to half-ass it. Knowing what she knew now, she had timed it a bit better. Damon was going out to pick up some supplies they had emptied the local stores of, and would be gone for an hour or so, so she would have some alone time afterwards. 

"Damon, you look like you're about to drop. You should feed before you go."   
"You sure you're okay with this, Bon? I don't want Sheila haunting my dead ass for corrupting her favourite grandchild."   
"It's fine, really."   
He picked up her wrist gently, but she pulled it back. He shot her a puzzled look.   
"My wrist was kind of sore for a few days last time and it made writing and stuff tricky, so..." Here goes. "Could you feed from my neck this time?"   
"You sure? That's not gonna be a problem for you?"   
He was probably very conscious of her less than pleasant history with him and Alaric. He searched her face for any sign of uncertainty. Her mouth went dry under his scrutiny, and she swallowed hard but nodded.   
"Okay. If you change your mind, tell me. I'll stop."   
He put one hand on the side of her head, sweeping her hair to the side and gently tilted her neck. Her breath hitched a little as he leaned in, but she could pass that off as nerves. She felt the ghost of his breath on her skin as he inhaled her scent and she willed her breath to steady. His fangs grazed her lightly before he sealed his mouth around them and bit gently. Bonnie winced slightly at the pinprick feeling, but it barely registered as discomfort this time. Not now she knew what followed.

Nothing could have prepared her for this. She had thought the wrist bite had felt good, but it was like hearing a symphony underwater. She was glad she was braced against the wall as she felt the full onslaught of him, his hand felt like it was the only thing still holding her head on her shoulders. The familiar waves of heady bliss accompanied the rush of her heartbeat, but this time he was pressed up against her, moving against her in sync with the pulsing rhythm. She let out a loud moan and instinctually grabbed his hair, pulling him in impossibly closer and breathing in the scent of bourbon, leather, and woodsmoke that was unique to him. His knee eased between her thighs and she rocked against him wantonly, desperate for relief, no longer caring that any pretence of this being innocent had long since crumbled. She was so close to coming it was almost painful, when she felt the familiar feeling of her slowing pulse. He was stopping.   
"No. Please. Don't. Stop."   
She barely breathed out each syllable. She felt him groan against her throat, his mouth still filled with her blood, and thought it might be the sexiest thing she ever heard. She felt his free hand slide down the waistband of her jeans and into her sodden underwear and with two deft strokes of his fingers she exploded. She felt his tongue circling the marks on her neck, healing the wounds as his hand withdrew from her underwear. 

Bonnie kept her eyes trained on the floor, too mortified to meet his gaze, afraid of the scrutiny she might find there. She kept thinking he would speak first, but he didn't. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself, bracing herself for whatever was coming her way - rage, obnoxious bragging, laughter at her expense... but there was nothing.   
"Please say something." She almost whispered.   
When he turned his back and walked away, she thought she would fall apart. But he didn't storm out. He headed to the bar and poured a glass of bourbon, but instead of drinking it, he came back over and held it out to her.   
"Here. You look like you need this more than I do."   
She cautiously looked up to find kind blue eyes looking at her without a hint of judgement. She let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.   
"Is it the suicide bourbon? Because I could go for that right about now."   
"Don't be so dramatic, Bon. We knew awkward was a possibility going into this." She took the drink cautiously. "Would've appreciated a little warning, though. Telling a vampire in a haze of bloodlust not to stop isn't a mistake many people get to live to tell about. Super hot though." She winced and gulped down the bourbon. It burned her throat, but wasn't nearly enough.   
"Look, if you want to forget it ever happened, consider it done - I'll go back to blood bags, no harm no foul. But you have nothing to be ashamed of."   
"I was being a total whore and you had your hand down my underwear."   
"You had a natural reaction that we thought might happen and I gave you a helping hand - pun definitely intended - so you couldn't talk my frenzied ass into drinking you dry. We didn't do anything wrong."   
"I think Elena might disagree. Oh god, Elena..."   
"...Has probably long since stopped mourning little old me and is probably dating some loser Matt Donavan wannabe by now. At least I hope so." She gave him a surprised look as he topped off her tumbler and poured himself one. "What? I sure as hell wouldn't want her waiting around for me. Just because I'm cursed to loneliness and celibacy doesn't mean she is. I want her to be happy."   
Bonnie took another swig of her drink while Damon downed his.   
"You're being remarkably not a dick about this."   
"Well I considered offering you a cigarette after, but the timing was off and you were all weepy." She punched him in the arm and he smirked at her. "There's my Bonfire." 

After a few minutes, it wasn't even awkward anymore. Bonnie never would've thought Damon of all people could be so mature about what had happened. He had even put the ball in her court - He could go back to blood bags, she could bleed into a glass for him, or their arrangement could continue, and Damon would put a swift end to any 'reaction' she had. She told him she'd think about it, and they had gone back to drinking and laughing like the most normal thing in the world. It had been quiet for a few minutes.  
"God that's a depressing thought."   
Damon lolled his head over to look at her. They had sat on the floor propped up against the bar.   
"Hm?"   
"Promise not to laugh?"   
"No." She shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I promise."   
"When you said about being cursed to celibacy I realised: I only ever got to have sex with one person before I died."   
"Quality over quantity, Bon-Bon."   
"Yeah?"   
"Nah, I'm just trying to make you feel better." She tutted her disapproval. "Who was it? Tyler Lockwood humping your leg on a full moon doesn't count, y'know."   
"Damon!"   
"Not wolf-boy, oohkay... The quarterback? I always had my suspicions he secretly... What's the football metaphor equivalent of 'batted for the other team'?"   
"It wasn't Matt. And he's not gay."   
"Give me an hour and a bottle of tequila."   
"It doesn't count if he's drunk."   
"The tequila's not for him, it's for me." He whispered conspiratorially. "Tequila makes me slutty."   
"I refuse to believe it's possible for you to be more of a man slut than you already are."   
"Oh, believe it. Besides, I'm a completionist. Already had Vicki and Kelly, so just missing Matty Blue Eyes and I got the set."   
"I thought Elena and Co stopped you and Kelly Donavan before you could..."   
"Nah, the Fun Police only stopped round two. Round one was in the Camero on the way over."   
"God, do you have an off switch?"   
He pulled up his shirt as if looking for one.   
"You're welcome to check, but if I come outta this speaking Spanish like Buzz Lightyear it's on you."   
Bonnie laughed and took another swig of bourbon. She was starting to feel light headed.   
"OMG."   
"Did you seriously just say 'OMG' out loud? Wow, sometimes you make it impossible not to realise you are just an old man trying to convince people he's still cool."   
"Please don't tell me your only sexual experience was with Baby Gilbert."   
She fixed her eyes back on her newly empty tumbler.   
"Okay I won't tell you."   
He couldn't have looked more disgusted if she'd just told him she was secretly a lizard person.   
"Oh now who's being judgy. Wipe that look off your face. Jer was sweet."  
"'Sweet' is how you describe a kitten, or a Christmas ornament, not a lover. If 'sweet' is the best you can do, he was definitely lousy in the sack. I bet even our seven minutes in heaven back there topped that."   
Bonnie couldn't help but feel hurt. It burned her that he was right - him drinking her blood and those brief passes of his hand had been the most erotic experience of her short life. She supposed she must be utterly pitiable in his eyes. She felt tears welling and couldn't stop them falling, so rather than crying in front of him, she stood up. She heard him call after her, but she had already bolted, slamming the door to her room.


	6. An Offer From A Friend

"Bon, please open the door."

Silence.

"You know I say things without thinking. Please don't go all teen drama on me."

She still didn't reply. She'd had enough of feeling embarrassed for one day. There was a 'whooshing' sound and Damon was climbing in her window.

"You could've just forced the door."

He threw himself on the bed propped up on his elbow next to her.

"Yeah, but there might've been splinters. And if one got into my heart there would have been a whole deathbed goodbye thing. You would've gotten all weepy - well, more weepy - and kissed me, Katherine would have appeared from the bowels of hell to give me some mythical cure for my otherwise fatal condition before disappearing in a puff of evil skanky smoke, and we would be back to awkward again. It's a whole thing."

Bonnie wished she could still set him on fire with her mind.

"C'mon. How can you still be mad at me when I'm being this funny and charming?"

"It's a gift." She deadpanned.

"I don't even know what I did this time. I insult Little Gilbert all the time, at least twice on Sundays, and it doesn't usually make you turn on the waterworks. What gives?"

"Did it occur to you that maybe I came up here because I didn't want to have this conversation."

"Of course it did. But I was curious, so I ignored that inconvenient little fact. Besides, you looked so cute when you stormed off."

"I was facing away from you."

"Exactly. Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go Bon-Bon."

She couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that, but was still sniffing back tears.

"You're like a caricature of yourself sometimes, you know that right?"

"It's a gift." He parroted back at her. "So come on, spill: What'd I say to push your buttons?"

"If I tell you, you'll just bring it up all the time and use it against me."

"I swear by whatever weird girl code you, Caroline and Elena use whenever you're gossiping about me that I won't."

"You can't, it involves lingerie parades and pillowfights, remember?"

"Bitch please, I had enough illicit liaisons in the 1800's that I can lace a corset blindfolded, and I once compelled an entire sorority into an epic pillowfight. I'm more than qualified."

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Fine. What you said about me and Jer and the lack of fireworks... It struck a nerve. God it's weird talking to a guy about this."

"More weird or less weird if you were painting my nails?"

"Definitely more weird."

"Thank heaven for small mercies. So what, Jer-Bear didn't push your buttons? There's a shocker. Still doesn't explain the dramatic exit."

"It's not that he couldn't... 'push my buttons'. Buttons were definitely pushed. I mean, it was okay, but I had no basis for comparison..."

She gave Damon a pointed look. She saw the realisation flicker in his eyes.

"Until today?"

"Until today."

She didn't fight the tears when they came again. "And now I'm dead, and I know okay was the best I ever had."

 

Damon pulled her in and let her cry against his chest.

"I must seem utterly pathetic to you, huh?"

"I don't think that. Because it's bull."

"Says the guy with enough notches in his bedpost that I'm surprised it's still standing."

"Did you know I was celibate for nearly 50 years?"

"Okay if you're going to lie to make me feel better at least make it credible."

"Cross my heart. From when I was turned until 1912."

Bonnie tried to hide her surprise. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Few reasons. None of them particularly good ones now I think back on it. Mainly because I thought it was the right thing to do, waiting for Katherine."

"How is this relevant?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to bare my soul here."

"Okay, fine. But usually when you're trying to make someone feel better, telling them to shut up isn't the best way to go about it."

"Duly noted and ignored. I was madly in love with Katherine, and when I lost her I didn't want anyone else. However, what I didn't realise until I met Sage fifty years later and she convinced me to get back in the saddle, so to speak, is that Katherine was an extremely selfish lover. Sage blew my innocent little mind. She did this thing where she..."

"Get to the point, Casanova."

"The point, oh bossy one, is that 'okay' was the best I had before I died, too. It just took me 50 years longer than you to figure that out."

"Oh."

Bonnie wasn't sure what the hell to say to that. She'd always known that the Damon she knew was only a snapshot of his 170 years, but she couldn't have imagined they would have ever had that in common.

"Of course, then I sent Stefan on a ripper binge of epic proportions so I could spend the next hundred years, give or take a few in an Augustine cell, catching up on a lifetime's worth of debauchery and sin. I'd advocate that as your next step."

"I'll get right on that."

"I'll give you my study notes. Seriously, there are at least 7 things I can save you some serious time on."

"No little people, clowns, or donkeys. Got it."

"Okay, 10 things."

She laughed and felt the rumble in his chest as he chuckled too.

 

She finally sat up, aware of the wet patch her tears had left on his shirt.

"Thank you." He smiled and shook his head dismissively, as if to say 'don't mention it'. "If we ever make it outta here, you can officially be a member of the girls club."

"Can't imagine Vampire Barbie being too impressed with that." He launched into a disturbingly accurate imitation of Caroline. " _Seriously, Bonnie Bennett! Damon? He's like the worst! Calling him Satan is like an insult to Satan_."

Bonnie cackled. "She'll get over it as long as you never, ever do that in front of her. Especially if you cook on girls' night."

"Speaking of which, you humans have to do that eating thing a couple times a day, right?"

"You've drunk so much I don't trust your breath near an open flame. I'll just grab some cereal." She got up and made for the door. "Want anything?"

"Nah, I think I'm gonna go read for a bit and pass out like a good drunk."

"Okay. See you in the morning."

She had just unlocked the door and was almost to the hall. "Bonster?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm probably earning myself a full year of witchy migraines when you get your powers back for even suggesting this, but... If you ever decided you didn't want Jeremy to be it for you..."

He didn't finish the sentence and it took her a moment to catch his meaning.

Her eyes widened a little. She contemplated for a second if he was joking, but his face betrayed his sincerity. He was bracing for the inevitable backlash - for her to shout at him, start moralising, whatever. But she thought about earlier: How mature and non-judgmental he'd been.

Her voice came out more even than she felt.

"I'll think about it."

She forced herself to head down the hall and not look back


	7. Girl, Interrupted

_A bead of sweat ran down the valley between his shoulder blades as he writhed on top of her, cool skin brushing against her heat as he pumped in and out of her slowly. His blue eyes met hers briefly as his lips caught hers in a searing kiss, and his pace quickened as he drove into her._

 

"Bon, we're out of that syrup you like to drown your pancakes in. I'm going to the store - need anything?"

She woke with a jolt just as the door opened. She'd been having these dreams on and off since The night Damon had offered her sex. They had agreed to keep their feeding arrangement - he would drink from her and 'relieve' her when the moment occurred. Problem was, even though it was at her insistence, he was a little too good at keeping things _'strictly business_ '. He barely had to touch her and she'd need scraping off the ceiling, but while she was definitely enjoying things, sometimes she wished his touch would linger a little longer. Wondered what it might be like to sleep with him. She guessed that was probably why she found herself dreaming about it so often.

She sat up and smoothed down her bed hair.

"No, m'fine."

"You okay?"

"Yeah fine, you just woke me. Bad dream."

"Okay. You sure you don't need anything from the store?"

"I'm sure."

"Batteries, lotion, phallic vegetables?"

"Oh my god, how long were you listening?"

"I wasn't, but your face is flushed and it smells like a whorehouse in here."

She threw the covers over her head.

"How is it you are responsible for like, 9 of the 10 most embarrassing moments of my life?"

"Luck. Fate. Happy coincidence. Oh stop being such a prude, I've seen your O face, you can stop playing coy. So, sun-upper or sexy dream?"

She threw the covers off and shot him a pointed look. He just waggled his eyebrows.

"Ooh, sexy dream. So, silk scarves with Kevin Costner? Going down in an elevator with Tom Hanks?" She ignored him, grabbing some jeans and a hoodie and throwing them on over her PJ shorts. "Okay so none of the above. Well if we're not taking cues from your nauseating 90's rom com obsession, that puts us drawing from experience. I refuse to believe you got that hot and bothered thinking about The Little Hunter That Could so..." He looked like the cat that got the cream as he put two and two together.

"I swear Damon if you planted that in my head with your weird vampire dream-walking thing..."

He held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Not guilty, judgypants. You were dreaming about me alllll on your own."

She debated throwing herself back under the covers.

 

"So kinks or vanilla? Were we blood sharing in the bathtub? Swinging from the Lockwood house chandeliers? Vervain ropes and shackles in the cellar?"

"That last option is sounding pretty good right now. Maybe I could leave you down there for a few days and get some privacy."

He dropped his eyes to the floor and clasped his hands in front of him. "Whatever you say, Mistress Bonnie."

"Okay, that's it. Out." He laughed, but it was playful not mean, and despite herself she felt a smile cracking through as well. She grabbed his arm and manhandled him toward the door. Knowing he was humouring her in letting her do it was somewhere between endearing and infuriating.

"Oof, someone likes to play rough. File that under ' _save for later'_."

She didn't bother responding. He stopped in the doorframe before she could shut it behind him.

"Well if you won't give me all the juicy details, was I any good, at least?"

She rolled her eyes. He wasn't going to let this go unless she said something.

"I don't know, some asshole woke me up when it was just getting to the good part. You'd better be back with my syrup when I get out of the shower, or there will be dire consequences."

He leaned back to whisper in her ear: "Yes, Mistress."

She threw a slipper at him on his way out before slamming the door.


	8. Memory Lane

"I swear I would slaughter an orphanage for a reprieve from 90's radio."

Bonnie glared at Damon over the top of her novel. He was - as usual - camped at the other end of the sofa to her, not doing anything in particular. She swore that sometimes he thought of winding her up as a pastime.

"Oh don't give me that look. How much Boyz II Men can a man be expected to take before the blood of innocents is spilled?"

"Not sure I'm with you about the orphanage, but I'll grant you that music wasn't one of this decade's crowning glories."

"At least the orphans would be free from Salt N Pepa forever."

"Fair point."

"Look at you, all down with the orphan slaughter. Bonnie Bennett, I think I'm rubbing off on you."

She flicked to the next page. "I know, I'm scared too."

"Well it's only fair since you were the one rubbing off on me yesterday morning."

"Jesus Christ, Damon."

"Don't blaspheme. I'm better at it than you are."

"How can you be so mature one second and just completely vulgar the next?"

"Practice?"

"Well I'd appreciate it if you handled our arrangement with at least a little bit of class."

"You mean the arrangement where I drink your blood in exchange for you getting your happy on? You're right, it's inherently classy."

"That's not how it is and you know it..."

 

A beat of silence.

"Okay, Damon. Out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Whatever you have the bug up your ass about. I'm not in the mood for you to snipe at me all damn day."

"Rude."

"Damon..."

"Okay. But if we're cutting the bullshit, it goes both ways."

"Fine by me. Shoot."

"Why won't you sleep with me?"

That threw her for a loop. "What?"

"You heard me just fine."

"Of course I heard you. I was just giving you a chance to ask a less ridiculous question."

"It's not ridiculous. I put the offer on the table weeks ago and you're doing your damndest to ignore it."

"Wow. Are you really so full of yourself that you think anyone you invite to your bed will automatically fall in it? You're delusional."

"No, I don't think that. I'm an observant guy, Bonnie, even without the supersenses. I think that you're waking up regularly drenched in sweat that has very little to do with the heat. I think you lean into my touch just a little too long when I feed. I think the way you bite your lip when you're watching me and think I'm not paying attention means you haven't been able to stop thinking about the offer since I made it. And I think if our little bubble extended as far as the space station and I was on it, I could smell the arousal pouring off of you from orbit. Am I wrong?"

The shame hit her like a wave and she lowered her eyes. She thought if she looked at him she might cry.

"Oh no. You don't get to go all avoid-y on me. You're the one who wanted to have this conversation."

"Do you enjoy humiliating me? Is that how you get your kicks?"

"I'm not trying to humiliate you. I'm just trying to understand why you're denying yourself."  
"Because I still have enough self-respect left not to accept a pity fuck from the undead, okay?"

Damon looked like she'd slapped him. Good.

"Okay, sidestepping the 'dead guy' jab for just a hot second. Can I ask where the hell you got 'pity fuck' from?"

"Come on, Damon. I tell you I had crappy sex when I was alive and you volunteer? That's basically the definition of a pity fuck."

Damon started laughing incredulously.

"You think this is funny?"

"Actually, Bon, I think it'd be god damn hilarious if it wasn't so tragic."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that most of my waking hours, all I can think about is throwing you up against the nearest relatively stable surface and making you scream my name so loud it'll wake the non-existent neighbours. And you're so busy getting your panties in a bunch and arguing black is blue, that you're completely oblivious."

Bonnie's throat went dry and her palms felt sweaty. Guys just didn't say things like that to her. To Caroline, Elena, sure. But never to her. But they weren't here - no-one else was. Maybe that was the point.

"You're only saying that because I'm your only option, and you probably haven't had a dry spell this long in decades - You'd never have looked twice at me otherwise. I'm not an idiot."

"All evidence to the contrary."

"Just stop it. Forget we ever had this stupid conversation."

Damon huffed a dramatic sigh. "What if I could prove I was attracted to you from when I first came back to Mystic Falls? That I cared about you long before this place?"

"What? Even if that wasn't a load of bull, how the hell would you plan on doing that?"  
"Well, I was a mass-murdering psychopath when we met, so don't expect Shakespeare in the Park or fluffy kitten feelings all the way, but if we take a walk down memory lane I can prove I wanted you."

"When you say 'take a walk'..."

"It's like dream-walking, but instead of fooling around with your subconscious it's like reliving a memory. A little trickier to do, but with practice it's doable."  
"I don't know..."

"Scared I'll prove you wrong?"  
She knew he was using reverse psychology, but she was curious where he was going with this.

"What do I have to do?"

He flashed a grin.

 

"I still don't get why we have to go into your head when I was there."

"Let's just say your recollections of some of the memories we need to visit might be a little hazy for one reason or another. Abracadabra signal jamming, mojo burnout, possession and whatnot."

"Fine. Where to first, Ghost of Christmas Past?"  
"And that is why nicknaming is my thing, not yours."

"Damon."  
"Just shut up and close your eyes."

Bonnie considered throwing out another jab, but against her better judgement, she did as she was told. At first, nothing happened, but then...

It was dark, and they were in the woods. It looked like they were near the church ruins, near the Tomb. She saw herself stood in the middle of a flaming pentagram. Her mouth was moving, but the voice wasn't quite hers.

"I don't remember this."  
"That's because that isn't you." Damon was standing beside her, dressed in his 90's garb, but there was another Damon standing across from them. Stefan was holding him back. "Well, it's your body, but you aren't in the driver's seat right now."

"This is when I was possessed by Emily?"  
"Yep."  
Realisation dawned on her. She did remember being here, being in these clothes...

"This is when Emily destroyed the crystal. Right before you tore my throat out, isn't it? Why would you bring me back here?!"

"I told you it wouldn't be pretty."

Emily threw the crystal and the pentagram flared as it exploded in midair.  
"Damon, please don't make me relive this."

"I promise I wouldn't if it wasn't relevant. Please just humour me?"

The scene played out in front of them. Bonnie saw the moment Emily left and she gained control of her own body - where her own memory picked up. Past Damon sped forward and she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could block it out. Everything went silent, and when she opened her eyes, the scene had frozen.

"It stopped?"  
"Neat, huh? It's like TiVo. C'mere for a sec."

She tentatively followed him as he led her closer. She was surprised how much fear she felt - she could scarcely reconcile the Damon she knew with the one before her.

"What do you see?"  
"I see a barbaric vampire tearing my throat out."  
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."  
"Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to be seeing?"

"You've known me a while. If I want a non-vampire someone dead - I mean, really want them dead - Do I usually bother to stop for a snack?"  
"No, you snap their neck."

"Then why didn't I snap yours?"

"I don't know. You thought you'd just lost your shot at getting Katherine back - maybe you were angry. Maybe you wanted to make me suffer."  
"With the Morality Police waiting in the wings?" He gestured to Stefan and Elena's figures on the sidelines. "Look closer."

She sidestepped the fact he hadn't so much as glanced at the perfect replica of Elena in front of them, and made herself look properly. "Your hand was holding my neck. It all happened so fast, I didn't remember that."  
"If I wanted to kill you, why would I bother to support your neck? Rather gently too, I might add."

"So you didn't want me dead. That's supposed to convince me you liked me?"

"I said 'wanted', not 'liked'. I'll give you a hint: Look _awkward_ -type close."

Before she could consciously think it, her eyes flashed downwards.

"Ding ding ding! Give the lady a prize."  
"You brought me here to show me you had a raging hard-on on the most terrifying night of my life?!"  
"First stop on the tour, Bon-Bon. Oh don't look so judgy, you knew I was a creep. I promise it gets less nasty from here."  
"Hard to get much worse."

"We spend waaaay too much time in these woods. Let's get outta here."

 

The scene changed. They were in the high school gym - the 60's decade dance judging by the decor. She saw herself dancing with Jeremy, and her heart gave an involuntary lurch at seeing him again. She wondered if Damon's had done the same when he saw Elena in the last memory.

_"May I?"_

She heard past-Damon cutting in and watched his fingers lace with hers as he spun her in and out. She remembered the conversation - they were talking about how the spell she was planning to kill Klaus and save Elena had a decent chance of killing her in the process. Hardly the most romantic of conversations. But she ignored the words and just watched him dancing with her. Holding her hands, brushing his cheek against hers, twirling her into his arms, her back pressed against him.

Her Damon - present Damon - pressed against her back and swayed her to the music.

_"Is there no way to increase your odds?"  
"Careful, Damon. Might start to think you actually care."_

"Spoiler alert: I might've cared a little."

He breathed it against her neck in a way that reminded her of when they had danced that night. She had hated the way he pressed against her, thinking the possessive hold was a threat of some kind - to make sure she held up her end of the bargain in protecting Elena. Now she wasn't so sure that was the case at all.

"You hated me, but you had to admit the chemistry was palpable. Not that I'm complaining - sometimes hate sex is the best sex."  
"This was almost a nice memory until you opened your damn mouth, you know that?"

"Got time for one more?"

Part of her wanted to stay here and dance with him and just forget everything, but she knew they should go.  
"Sure. Why not?"

 

Wind whipped around them and a blue-tinged light illuminated everything. The other times, it had taken her a moment to get her bearings, but this she remembered with perfect clarity. It wasn't because it was more recent, either.

_"I'm sure there are a million people we'd both rather be with right now, but..."_

She watched as her past self entwined her fingers with him, and her present self did the same.

"Told you we spend too much time in these woods."

_"Couple thousand at most"_

_"Do you think it'll hurt?"_

_"I don't kn-"_

He froze the scene before the flash of light.

"I was going to say 'I don't know'. What I really should've said was 'I don't care'. Because the Other Side might have been crashing down around us, but all I could think about was that you had reached out and taken my hand. Without force, or coercion. And even that slight touch was electric." His fingers brushed against hers. "I barely noticed the end of the world because of you, Bon."

He brought her hand to his lips and laid the ghost of a kiss on her knuckles as the memory faded out and they were back in the boarding house. They had evidently wandered a little in their magical travels, and were standing near the library fireplace.

 

"Convinced yet?"

He planted a train of feather-light kisses from her fingers down the heel of her hand, but when he reached her wrist his kiss was firmer, and she couldn't help but recall the feeling of him feeding from there. She barely remembered to breathe.

"Just let me think for a second."

Bonnie snatched her hand away, unable to form a coherent thought with Damon's lips grazing her skin. Okay, so he wasn't only interested because she was the last woman on earth. But she had playing hard to get down to a science - it was what came after that where her confidence faltered. The only person she had ever let her guard down for, she had loved. Epic, sweeping soundtrack, come-back-from-the-dead kind of love, but with a sexual side that kind of smouldered but never blazed. What she had with Damon was a far cry from that. They had barely tolerated one another - passionate only in their vitriolic hatred, or at best disdain - and the tentative, almost hostile, friendship they now shared was circumstantial at best. However, the heat between them raged like wildfire. She had never wanted someone like this, never felt wanted like this, either. She would feel stupid saying it out loud, but she was scared of the power it would give him over her if she gave in. Jeremy had cared for her, loved her, and he still hurt her: Cheated on her with his (dead) ex. Damon had no such reason to be gentle with her feelings (she couldn't help the intrusive thought and accompanying shiver that she might not want him to be gentle with her body). What if he used her and discarded her? Or, perhaps worse, if he used her inexperience against her? Even in jest, she didn't think she could stand it if he wielded her naivety as a weapon in their next fight. She was acutely aware he was still burning a hole right through her with his gaze, waiting for her to make up her mind. As if on cue:

"Careful, those cogs are turning so fast you might blow a gasket."

"Can you just give me some space to think?"

"You ever consider that might be the problem?"

"What?"

"Maybe you think too much. Caution belongs in the wind, Bon-Bon."

"Says the terminal hedonist who thinks with every organ except his br-"

 

She was broken off mid-sentence by his lips crashing into hers. One hand swept her hair to the side and wound in it, his fingers stroking her scalp. The other was around her waist pulling her in close (and mercifully keeping her upright). She felt his tongue tease at her bottom lip as the hand at her waist eased under the back of her shirt, his touch sending a tingle down her spine. Any resistance she might have considered putting up fell away and she melted into him. She moaned and her hands found their way into that raven black hair she was always dying to comb her fingers through. He tasted like spice and bourbon and sin and she couldn't get enough. Bonnie felt his smirk even through his kiss.

"You were saying?"

He moved his kisses down her neck. God, when vampires had first rolled into Mystic Falls she had developed a new aversion to the idea of a guy macking on her neck. Now she actually had a vampire at her throat - running his tongue firmly along her carotid no less - and it had her arching her back and struggling to catch her breath. Maybe he was right: Caution did belong in the wind.

"Was never your brain anyone bragged about anyway." She managed to breathe out.

She felt him laugh against her neck and the soft exhale of cool breath on the line he had licked up it made her shiver and draw in a sharp breath.

"Bragging, huh? Knew you girls talked about me."

His teeth dragged gently down her throat and she let out something between a whimper and a mewl at the memory of his fangs there yesterday, the orgasm that had ripped through her at the barest graze of his fingers between her legs. Somewhere she was really feeling the absence of friction right about now. She shifted on her feet, her thighs rubbing too softly together.

 

Yes, they had talked about him. In point of fact, getting Elena to stop had been the trick. Even Caroline, who he had used without a hint of remorse, had been unable to deny that it was raw sex appeal and not compulsion that had gotten her into bed, and she had implied (but resented him too much to explicitly say) that he was the best sex she'd ever had. At least until her little tryst with Klaus, which Bonnie and Elena both got the impression had more to do with the explosive decompression of months of sexual tension than anything else. Still, Bonnie had chalked the level of bragging up to some weird pathological attraction to bad boys that thankfully had skipped her gene pool, and she had taken no small amount of pride in the fact she was the only one of her friends (sometimes, it felt like the only woman in Mystic Falls) not to succumb to his charms. That pride seemed foolish to her now: She was smug about bringing an umbrella while they had danced in the rain.

 

The hand in her hair moved her gently so their foreheads were touching and she braced herself for another searing kiss. But instead:

"Gonna need more than encouraging noises here, Bon."

She didn't know if it was the lustful haze that had left her barely functional or if she was being naive, but she didn't catch his meaning.

"Hm?"

He swept a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips, the other hand rubbing teasing circles just under her waistband at the small of her back.

"Is that a yes?"

She was sure her answer had to be obvious from her body's reactions (to echo his earlier statement, he could probably smell the effect he was having on her from space).

"Sorry, sometimes when a really hot vampire is doing sinful things with his tongue I kind of forget how to use words."

"If you think that was sinful, my next trick is gonna knock your Sunday school socks off."

She clenched her thighs together at the thrill that ran through her. He still watched her expectantly, searching for any hint of hesitation. It dawned on Bonnie then that Elena's body must have been saying 'yes' for a very long time before she herself had given in, and that by virtue of being seen as 'the bad guy', Damon was likely used to those who desired him doing so reluctantly, while he waited in the wings for them to reconcile their mind's reluctance with their body's desperation. Her heart broke a little for him at that.

 

She swallowed hard. It was time to dance in the rain.

Caution, meet wind.

"Yes."


	9. The Starting Block

He vamp-sped her to the wall, lifting her by her thighs so his body locked hard up against her as his lips returned to their assault on her neck. The scraps of her dress fell to the floor, torn to shreds like it was tissue paper (thankfully, skinny jeans weren't a thing in 1994). His hands were everywhere, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She had given up on wearing a bra somewhere around month 2 of captivity, and Damon relished the expanse of bared skin. His mouth found her breasts and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her, or the arm that wrapped around his head urging him to continue to lavish his attention there. But even with the avalanche of sensations, all she could think about was the rock hard erection pressed up against her core.

"Fuck, Damon."

She rocked her hips, desperate to feel more of him and was rewarded with an incredibly sexy low moan from him.

"That's the general idea."

"God, do you ever shut up?"

He gently caught her nipple between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, and she gasped.

"Only when my mouth is otherwise occupied."

His intention was abundantly clear as he lowered her to her feet, sinking to his knees as he did so, his kisses travelling towards the waistband of her underwear. She sucked in a slightly anxious breath - this was uncharted territory for her. Jeremy had never shown any inclination, and she worried he would think she was somehow dirty for asking him to go down on her, so she had never brought it up. In stark contrast to the ferocity with which he had shredded her dress, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her underwear at the tops of each thigh, and his icy blue eyes didn't leave her face as he eased them down slowly. She wasn't sure at what point in the proceedings he had removed his shirt, but the intensely erotic visual of him kneeling half-naked before her and stripping her bare had her heart pounding furiously. As he eased the scrap of lace off at her feet, he held her steady as he eased one leg up, running kisses along her inner thigh as it rested on his shoulder. When he reached the point at the top her he thigh where her femoral artery ran closest to the skin, his face vamped a little and she held her breath as she tried to decide what she wanted more - his fangs in her thigh or his tongue inside her. Sensing the unspoken question, he huffed a laugh, glanced up at her and gave a wink.

"Maybe later, Bonfire. My self control is good, but it's not THAT good." His fangs receded and his eyes returned to normal. "You'll have to settle for this."

She swore as his tongue ran down her centre. One of his hands braced her leg in support while the other traced the line he had drawn with his tongue before plunging two fingers into her. He smiled in approval at how wet she already was.

"Hang onto those Sunday school socks."

 

If the snarky commentary and unrelenting sarcasm was what it took to teach his tongue how to do this, she'd never complain about it again. His fingers worked inside her, just clipping her g-spot with every pass, in perfect timing with him licking and sucking at her clit. Just when she thought she would fall over the edge, he would swap and tongue fuck her while his thumb eased her clit back down from the brink. When she was starting to build to the new rhythm, he would change again and run his tongue down the length of her, flicking her clit gently with the tip his tongue at each pass. When she was shaking with pleasure, he would switch back to fucking her with his fingers. She had one hand in his hair and the other desperately clutching at the wall, the mantle - anything to stop her falling off the edge of the world. While it felt beyond amazing, she needed to come, and every time her climax was snatched away at the last second she didn't know whether to scream with frustration or surrender to the never ending pleasure. What made it even more incredible was that Damon seemed to be enjoying it almost as much as she was. He was vocal in his satisfaction and his moans and sounds of appreciation heightened everything for her. She was building to another crescendo and felt him go to withdraw his fingers, denying her release once more. She couldn't take it, not again, and tightened her fingers in his hair - insistently enough to get his attention.

"All you can eat buffet, how may I help you?"

Okay, maybe godly oral sex wasn't _quite_ enough to forgive the sarcasm.

"Isn't your tongue too tired to make snarky comments?" She managed to choke out breathing. "M'barely getting started."

A lazy, languid lick as his fingers twisted inside her. _Oh, Jesus_.

"Damon, I need to come."

"You know, in my day manners were a thing."

_So were slavery and cholera_ , she thought.

"I'm serious."

"So am I. What's the magic word, Bon?"

His tongue ghosted lightly over her clit and it was enough to make her whole body convulse.

"Oh...Fuck."

"Well that's definitely not it." He smirked up at her, eyes glinting playfully. She couldn't help but laugh a little. Sex had felt kind of good, it had been heartfelt, or even been a necessary release but it had never been fun before. She would have thought laughter would ruin the mood, but with Damon it seemed natural.

"Fine. Please?"

"A lady would say it like she meant it."

Another swirl of his tongue.

"Please, Damon. God, please."

"Much better."

His fingers curled against her g-spot just as he sucked lightly on her clit and she exploded like a dying star. As she came down, she noticed she had gripped the wooden mantle hard enough to leave crescent moon indents of her fingernails. She was a boneless wreck, and this was just foreplay.

 

Damon pulled her down to the floor so that she was rested half on his bent knees, half against the wall. He ran gentle fingers up and down her sides, soothing her without pushing her for more. She wanted nothing more than to throw him back on the rug and ride him in front of the fire, but her body was taking it's time recovering.

"Help me out here. Is this 'awkward, what have I done, regretful' silence, 'that was good, I'm enjoying my buzz' silence, or 'I want to fuck your brains out but currently can't feel my legs' silence?"

"Somewhere between options two and three."

A hint of relief in his answering smile.

"Good to know."

"Just give me a minute, we don't all have vampire recuperation perks."

"I could've sworn we just had a conversation about manners..."

"When I regain control of my arms, I plan to hit you. Repeatedly."

"No need to get all huffy." He ran a hand down her side and pulled her in for a kiss. "Not that I like to brag, but I am an excellent teacher. We can go over that particular lesson again and again until it sinks in."

For emphasis, he pulled her towards him so she was pressed up against his erection. She was dying to have him, but she was still way too sensitive and even the rough fabric of his jeans was too much against her. So she settled for the next best thing.

"Can we move to the couch?"

"Too much of a good girl for floor sex, but wants to think she's too much of a bad girl for bed sex. Personally, I kind of like the carpet burns."

She rolled her eyes. Of course he was choosing now to be difficult.

"Just get on the damn couch."

"Ooh, bossy. Is that Mistress Bonnie? I'm still holding out a little hope for those vervain ropes."

She got to her feet (barely), fighting the urge to cover her nudity, and said as causally as she could muster:

"Fine, I was going to blow you, but I guess we can call it a day here."

The vulgarity was a gamble, but she could see his curiosity was momentarily piqued. His eyes flashed lustfully for a second before he calmed them. He stood and took her hand in his.

"Bon, I don't want you to think just because I do something for you that you're obligated..."

"I want to. I'll even use your favourite word." She didn't break eye contact as she undid this belt and fly, leaning in so her lips were almost touching his. " _Please_."

 

Bonnie threw him backwards onto the seat and he let her. She straddled him and kissed him hard, the faint taste of her still lingering on his tongue. She had thought it might be gross, but it just made her think of how he had made her legs turn to jelly and her whole body quake. She wanted to do the same to him - wanted to feel that power over him. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to elicit anywhere near that reaction - she'd only ever done this a couple of times: Once with Jeremy, but he hadn't lasted long, and once a few years before with Tyler (her shameful little secret to get onto the cheerleading squad). Still, one thing she had already learned from Damon was that enthusiasm was damn sexy, and if he could tell how much she wanted him, he would enjoy it regardless of any hiccups of technique.

 

His hands gently ran over her. In her hair, down her back. It took an effort of will not to get caught up in just making out. She slipped her hand down the space between their torsos and into his pants - no underwear, to her complete lack of surprise - and pulled his shaft free (well, at least she now knew where a measure of that insufferable arrogance came from), stroking him with light, teasing touches. When she gripped him a little harder, she felt him let out a stuttered moan against her mouth. She pulled back and gave him what she hoped was a sultry look before sliding herself between his legs to the floor. On her knees before him, she was acutely aware of his piercing blue eyes on her. She would have thought being watched would have made her nervous, but instead she felt womanly - alluring. His eyes didn't waver when she leaned in to run her tongue up his length, nor when she placed an open-mouthed kiss on the tip, though she heard his breath quicken. It was only when she gripped his base and eased him fully into her warm, wet mouth that his eyes fluttered closed with a hissed intake of breath and what might've been muttered swearing. As she found her rhythm, moving her mouth, tongue and hand in tandem, she heard him moan her name. Not a derivative, or some ridiculous nickname: A breathy "Bonnie".

 

While she had wanted to do this, she hadn't expected to enjoy it so much. She had to remind herself not to stifle any noises of enjoyment - remembering how much it had turned her on that he had been so vocal. Besides, it's not like there was any need to be discreet when you were the only people in the world. She swirled her tongue over his tip and hummed her appreciation at his faint taste - salty and sweet. Hearing more swearing and a loud snap, she dared a glance upwards to find he had broken a piece off of the solid wood table behind the couch. She felt not a small jolt of pride that she had elicited that reaction from him and tried not to let him feel her smug smile around him. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back and his breathing ragged. He might be disarmingly attractive when he was all swagger and self-confidence, but she liked him better like this: Breathless and out of control and at her mercy. Much as she didn't want her neck snapped like the coffee table, a part of her wanted to feel him pushing her head down harder. His knuckles were white as he gripped the sides of the couch, but she grabbed one hand and moved it to the back of her head, hoping he would catch her meaning. From the rough way his fingers coiled in her hair, she knew he did.

"Bon," his voice was raspy "I really appreciate the world's hottest deathwish you have going on, but if you don't stop soon we're gonna have a problem."

She had originally intended this to be foreplay, but now she wanted to feel him come. 

"Bon, stop."

The hand in her hair tugged gently to ease her away. He sighed in relief as her mouth released him.

"You spoiled my fun." She teased, planting small, tantalising kisses on his toned stomach and that damned treasure trail that drew her gaze on the too-regular occasions he swanned about the boarding house in a towel.

"Yeah, well you seemed intent on spoiling everyone's fun, and in a shocking plot twist you're the nympho and I'm the martyr for the greater good."

She ran her tongue down the curve of his hip bone, still stroking his cock with her hand and enjoyed the appreciative moan he made.

"Now if you don't mind, I'm going to vamp us upstairs and fuck your brains out."

"I like the sound of that." She moved her kisses back to his cock. "Just answer one teensy question for me first?"

"Anything."

She whispered it against his skin.

"How's your recovery time?"

Before he could process what she said, she plunged him into her mouth, taking as much of him in as she could. One hand squeezed him from the base to meet her lips closing over him and the other splayed out running across the delectable panes of his chest.

"Fuck... Bonnie."

She had been careful to keep him close to the edge while they were talking, so it took barely a few pumps before he was thrusting into her mouth, face scrunched up and hot jets of his pleasure shooting down her throat.

The prim and proper girl she was a few years ago, hell even a few months ago, would never have recognised the wanton woman she was now - would have wondered how she could possibly stoop so low. But she was a fool to have been so closed minded. Ironically, she felt more free and powerful on her knees in this supernatural prison than she had ever felt before.


	10. Rules Are Made To Be Broken

She wiped her mouth and climbed to her feet, knowing that casually sauntering upstairs would drive Damon crazy. But he had other ideas. With a whoosh of vamp speed, she had her front pressed up against the wall at the foot of the stairs, his body pushed up behind her. He'd discarded his remaining clothes on the way.

"That was cheating." His breath grazed her neck and the thrill trailed down her spine.

"Says the guy who robbed the bank at Monopoly and thought I wouldn't notice."

"Uh-uh-uh. My alleged indiscretions are irrelevant." One hand slid around her waist and down between her legs. "This is about you." He grazed her clit and she whimpered. "I told you to do something. You broke the rules." His other hand swept her hair to the side and she felt his fangs brush her skin. "That was very naughty."

She fought to turn around but it was like he had her in a vice. The hand between her legs moved torturously slowly but she couldn't even rock her hips to relieve the building ache. She waited for the rapturous pain/pleasure of his bite but instead of locking his mouth over her neck and sinking in deep, he barely nicked her - just enough that she could feel a single drop running down her clavicle. He traced the trail it had left with his tongue and she wanted to scream with frustration.

"Something the matter?"

"Screw you."

"Well, that was the plan but someone ruined it. Now as well as manners it looks like I have to teach you patience."

Magic or no magic, she was going to set the smarmy asshole on fire.

"I swear Damon, if you don't stop toying with me-"

"You'll what? No witchy juju means you're just a bad girl with a wicked mouth that gets her in trouble." His teeth caught her earlobe and she gasped. Bastard.

"This teasing slow burn thing the only trick in your book? Because it's getting old real fast." "Oh but patience is a virtue, Bon-Bon." A very slow dip of his fingers inside her, before returning to their slow caress of her clit. "But then you aren't quite as virtuous as you like to pretend you are, are you?"

"Does that bother you?"

"What do you think?" He shifted behind her and her eyes widened as she felt he was already rock hard again. It had been a minute at most.

"I think if these are the perks I was way too slow getting on the vampire bandwagon."

She felt the breath of his laugh against her neck.

"We are in need of a new fan club president. High staff turnover and all."

His fingers stretched languidly inside her while his thumb took up their former role. Her strangled moan was barely human.

"I'll be your damn mascot if you cut this shit out and just fuck me now."

"Such vulgarity! I'm blushing."

"Damon..."

He still held her immobile. This was torture. He was playing with her and she just wanted him inside her. She had never fantasised about sex in this way - only ever romantic scenes with candles and fluffy beds. Never a raw need to be taken roughly against a wall. But then today seemed to be a day of firsts.

"On reflection, I prefer you in a cheerleader outfit rather than a mascot costume: Furries are a bit of a high rung on the kink ladder even for me. But hey, if you want to give it a try you could always play with Tyler on a full moon if we go back to the real world. Just make sure you get your rabies shots first." He slowly pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, making sure she could see him slowly suck them. She felt the rumble in his chest at her back as he moaned at the taste. She was going to cry or scream or explode. Possibly all three.

"DAMON!"

His lips brushed her ear. "Magic word?"

"FUCK YOU."

"Close enough."

 

He drove into her and she cried out as he filled her. Bonnie felt her eyes water, somewhere between shock and relief, overwhelmed with sensation. _Finally_. The way they stood meant his thrusts weren't deep, but it allowed for a ruthless pace. Her arms, now released, braced against the wall as he moved in her, fast enough that a human would have tired too quickly to enjoy it. She was still tight from her earlier orgasm and every time he thrust into her it stayed just on the right side of the line between pleasure and pain, all the frustration and hostility between them from day one right up until their latest barbed conversation all channelled into this frenzy. He slid one hand along her arm and his fingers slipped in the gaps between hers, checking she was still with him - that he wasn't pushing her too far. She squeezed his fingers in silent answer. _More, I need more_. Her body was on the brink of what it could handle, and still she wanted more. He sensed her meaning, and when his fangs brushed her neck again, she moved her head to the side in silent invitation. The anticipation almost too much to bear.

 

His rhythm didn't falter as he pierced her neck, and time seemed to stand still in the oblivion he created for her - where there was nothing but pleasure and darkness. She existed only in the pulses of her heart and the cadence of their movement. No human experience could ever match it. She didn't think any measure of time would be long enough, but it couldn't go on forever, and even though Bonnie knew he was drawing her blood as slowly as he could, she was starting to feel light-headed. Thank god Damon had incredible self control, because apparently she didn't. She would have never been able to bring herself to ask him to stop - even if her last breath was echoing in her throat, every fibre of her being was screaming for him to take every drop. She was vaguely aware his thrusts were becoming more erratic, his free hand snaked between her thighs to urge her over the edge and waves of pleasure like worlds colliding came crashing over her and she felt him fall against her as they went still.

 

They were silent. No barbed comments or one liners to wind the other one up. He was trembling - _actually trembling_ \- against her, and she felt like she was floating. She would have happily stayed there in bliss for much longer, but to her utter disbelief after a few minutes' respite, she felt him begin to harden again inside her.

"That's not biologically possible."

"Says the witch to the vampire."

"Ex-witch."

"Semantics. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details. Vampires, apex predator, incredible stamina, insatiable appetites, blah." He kissed her shoulder. "Want me to run you a bubble bath?" She shot him a look over her shoulder and he rolled his eyes. "The 'relaxing with champagne' kind, not the 'get water all over the floor' sexy kind. I promise to keep my hands to myself and ogling to the barest minimum."

Bonnie's body was practically boneless. Her throat was hoarse, she felt like every nerve in her body had been fried from overstimulation, and she already knew she would be pleasantly sore tomorrow. A bubble bath sounded like heaven.

But good girls go to heaven, and she didn't feel much like one today.

 

She clenched around his hardening shaft and rolled her hips against his crotch.

"Maybe later."

He stuttered a curse into her shoulder and moved one hand to cup her breast and started to massage it as he kissed her neck.

"It is a crying shame you were wasted on Little Gilbert for so damn long."

"Careful Damon, that was almost a compliment. A girl might get the wrong impression." "Wouldn't want that." His lips brushed her ear and his cock twitched inside her. "Bedroom?"

"God yes." She had expected him to speed them upstairs, but he didn't. He eased out of her and she hissed at the lost contact, her legs barely holding her up. He turned her around and pulled her in for another one of those kisses that almost burned her. She had a fleeting thought that he might be grossed out because she had gone down on him earlier (Jeremy had refused to kiss her until she had brushed her teeth, which made her feel dirty) but given the fervour with which he kissed her, she quickly realised Damon really didn't care, just as she barely noticed the slight metallic taste of her blood on him. The difference between a man and a boy, she surmised. Without breaking the kiss, he hoisted her up like she was a feather and her legs wrapped around his waist - his hardness pushed dizzyingly against her core - and without an upward glance carried her up the stairs.

 


	11. Burning Desire

Damon laid her down gently on the bed as if she were made of glass, covering her body with his. His kisses scorched where they touched her skin and the sensation of him filling her again was comforting, necessary. There was still passion and intensity - she doubted Damon was capable of any less - but the difference was stark. If what had happened downstairs had been a raging inferno, this was smouldering embers. The rough sex they had before had been fuelled by almost 4 years of friction and rage and frustration between them. It had been cathartic and destructive, and while it had been amazing in it's own right, it couldn't hold a candle to this. When they moved together, their whole bodies touched. He supported himself with ease on one arm as his free hand trailed over her leaving goosebumps in it's wake. He would occasionally ghost it over her clit and her eyes would roll back. One of her thighs was hooked over his hip, pulling them impossibly closer. This position allowed him deeper than before, and she felt every inch. She might be dead, but her body had never been more alive.

 

The delicious friction of his skin against hers was almost as all-consuming as the blazing blue of his eyes. Aside from occasionally breaking away to press kisses into her neck, her collarbone, or behind her ear, his gaze didn't veer from hers. It was breathtaking, but it felt too personal, the sheer intimacy of his kiss, the way he looked at her. This wasn't theirs to have. Guilt surged as realisation dawned - this didn't belong to her. It belonged to Elena. She moved to bury her face in his neck, but he manoeuvred her right back. She couldn't hide from him.

"Don't do that."

"What? This?" His fingers brushed at the top of her thighs and she shook.

"No."

"This?" A deep kiss against her clavicle.

He was being playful, but she couldn't get past it.

"N... No. Damon, I mean don't look at me like that."

"Like what? Like I'm wondering why we ever played even one game of Monopoly when _this_ was an option?"

"Like I'm her."

Damon went stock still.

"Is that what you think I want?"

"Don't... It's not a big deal." She turned to face away.

"Hey. Bonnie look at me." He gently turned her face back  towards him. "I was celibate for 50 years after Katherine. If I wanted someone else, I wouldn't be doing this. I'm here, with you. _Only_ you." She looked doubtful - he practically worshipped Elena. "I can prove it, if you let me."

"How?"

He bit into his wrist and offered it to her.

"Do you trust me?"

She had always been fearful of drinking vampire blood.

"Damon, I don't know..."

"You could probably use it anyway. I think I got a little carried away downstairs, but you want to know what's going on in my head? Let me show you."

She was terrified of becoming one of them and losing her connection with the earth. But now she wasn't a witch anymore (and was already technically dead), what did she have to lose? As she wrapped her lips around the wound and began to drink, he plunged his fangs back into her neck. At first all she could think about was the acrid taste of his blood, but then a cadence formed between the blood flowing into and out of the two of them. Damon began to move again, matching the rhythm, and it felt so unbelievably good that she almost forgot why they were doing this. Even the blood stopped tasting metallic and tangy and became sweet and rich. Then she started to feel strange. In the pulse between them, she saw flashing images of herself. His memories of the past few hours, it would seem. They were jumbled, but there was a clear theme. In his eyes she was seductive, beautiful, strong, and radiant... and as promised, there was no one else. She had never seen herself look half as good as she did through his eyes. Along with the images, she also felt emotions that weren't her own; feeling his bloodlust when she had bared her neck to him was 10 different kinds of weird, but also strangely erotic. She had known that vampires felt things more keenly - supernatural temper tantrums and soap opera style love stories had dominated her life for the past few years, after all - but the strength of his desire for her was staggering. He was bombarding her with raw need, but there was a hint of something else too. However, before she could explore further he broke the connection. She would never want someone poking around in her thoughts, so it made sense he didn't want her looking around at anything else. It didn't matter: She had seen what she needed to see.

 

Once he withdrew his fangs, the blood just became blood again and she swiftly stopped drinking. When Bonnie opened her eyes, he was looking at her again with the same intensity, but the doubt and guilt it had triggered in her before were long gone. Now, she had never felt sexier than she did when he watched her. She was also sensing the benefits of his blood taking effect - extra energy from healing her blood loss, stronger muscles, and increased sensitivity (as if she needed it). Her own heightened lust and the memory of his threatened to overwhelm her. Not enough. Never enough. She threw him backwards onto his knees and straddled his lap, sinking herself back onto him. Her hands dove into his hair and pulled his head back hard, giving her the perfect angle to seize his mouth with hers. She kissed him like she was drowning and he was her oxygen, and feeling his low moan in her throat was intoxicating. His hand pulled her tighter into him as the other supported her upper thigh, his strength taking the strain out of her movements as she rode him and he lifted his hips to meet hers. She felt Damon reposition her slightly and it went from incredible to cataclysmic as the new angle had his entire length rub against her clit with every deep thrust. It was only moments before she could feel her orgasm building and she hated that it was so soon. She went over screaming and she thought her cries could have levelled a small city. She felt him clench and breathe sharply to stave off his own release as she tightened around him and didn't know whether to feel thankful or disappointed that he didn't go with her. Damon lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around him, which changed the angle so she wouldn't be uncomfortably over-stimulated. Even though she was realistically on top, he did all of the work in this position, which considering that last orgasm had left Bonnie with pins and needles was probably for the best. But the real payoff of this arrangement was the visual. Looking down the space between them, she could watch Damon's delicious abs rippling as moved, and the glorious sight of him driving into her. Something about watching what he was doing to her was just so damn sexy. She didn't imagine the way he leaned back a touch to give her a better view, and it made her smile.

"That's just showing off."  
"You were expecting modesty? Two tours of my head and it's like you don't know me at all."

"I know you love it when I do this." She clenched and ground her hips into him as his thrust hit home and was rewarded with a moan.

"If you knew me, you'd know that wasn't showing off." An impish laugh. "This, on the other hand..."

Damon swept one hand under her rear and the other behind her back to support her as he swept her up. He raised himself up so that he was no longer resting on his knees - his thighs perpendicular to his calves. His supernatural strength allowed him to plunge into her powerfully where a human would have struggled to even support her weight and she gasped at the sheer power of his body as it flexed and writhed against her. His kisses wreaked havoc along her throat and down to her breasts, and when he caught one nipple and swirled his tongue around it as he drove himself into her, she saw stars. He moved so that he could support her and continue to lever her along his length with one arm, allowing the other to take up lavishing his affections on her breast while his lips returned to her neck, running tongue and teeth up her until she mewled. He caught her mouth and his kiss threatened to consume her even as her whole body was ravaged under his touch. She couldn't get enough air, and yet couldn't bring herself to break from his searing kiss. Despite the coolness of his skin, she felt like flames were licking under her skin. The familiar tightness built in her core and she knew she couldn't last long with him bombarding her senses like this.

"Damon..."  
"I know."  
"Want to feel you."  
"I'm with you, Bonfire."

When they came together, she was sure there would be nothing left of her but cinders. She felt him rush into her and her passion combusted like an explosion inside her

 

Bonnie was barely conscious.

"That was..."

"Hot."  
"Kind of a modest way to put it."  
"No, I mean is it just me or is it... Oh God, fire. Bonnie. BONNIE!"  
She was shocked out of her bliss long enough to regain some of her senses. She heard the crackle before she saw the blaze. Flames danced across Damon's dresser, leaping up the curtains, and had even started to engulf the bedspread.

She spoke the spell on instinct: " _Namia Exum Salvos_ "

The fire extinguished with a whip of ashes and smoke, and Damon looked at her with utter astonishment


	12. Aftermath

Bonnie was shell-shocked. Her magic had been gone: Not a whisper of power, not even an echo of her connection to nature. The hope that she had initially clung to of a way home had long since faded - even if she had barely been able to admit that, even to herself. But now, spent and boneless and numb in Damon's arms, she felt it shimmer warmly under her skin: As if it had never been absent. She bathed in it's familiarity for a moment - whilst she rarely considered herself in the same category as vampires and other supernaturals, she couldn't deny that she didn't feel complete as 'just' a human.

"Earth to Sabrina."

Bonnie snapped back to reality. She was now sat upright on the edge of the bed, with him knelt in front of her. He had her head in his hands, and was checking her over for any signs of harm. There were a few rapidly-healing burns coated in soot on his left arm and his side, suggesting he had shielded her bodily from the worst of it. Flakes of grey ash dotted his dishevelled hair, and she absently noticed that she had also been coated in the debris when the flames had been doused.

"Bonnie, are you okay?

Her voice was raw and scratchy when she responded.

"Guess Bonfire is a more apt nickname than I thought."

He exhaled a sigh of relief that all her marbles were in tact.

"Look who got her mojo back. Little rusty on the gear changes though maybe. How're you feeling?"

She struggled for the words. In the past few hours she'd been insecure, self-assured, powerless, ecstatic, despondent, strong, jealous, and sensual. Her heart had faced the breadth of human emotion, and her body had been pushed to its limits.

"Can you ask a less complicated question?"

"Okay. Well, given the sexy sweat and witchy soot situation that's making us look less like über-hot supernaturals and more like Dickensian orphans, how about that bath?"

"A bath sounds incredible."

"Sure thing. Try to keep the mystical arson to a minimum while I'm gone, 'kay?" She nodded "Back in a jif."

He stood up and headed to the bathroom, and in spite of her current emotional state, Bonnie did take a moment to admire the view as he walked away. She must have spaced out again, as the next thing she knew, strong arms were lowering her into the warm, scented water. Apparently, he had also been down to the champagne cellar, as a bottle of Dom sat in the ice bucket next to the tub and with a filled flute next to it, which she took up and drained, refilling it immediately and sipping it this time. She had judged Damon's champagne and bubble bath habit to be ridiculously decadent and over the top, but right now it was exactly what she needed. She felt her muscles loosen as she stretched out and almost groaned aloud. She heard the faucet on the shower turn and opened her eyes.

"You're not joining me?"

"You need to relax, and I think if I get in there with you we will end up not relaxing." Hard to argue with that. "You'd better save me a glass of that though, lushypants."

"I make no promises."

He smirked in her direction before ducking under the water.

 

So as well as when cooking, apparently Damon also sang in the shower. At high volume. And badly. She sputtered a laugh when she recognised the song he was murdering was 'Love, Sex, Magic'. She had been worried things might be awkward after they slept together, and after her little magical hiccup she thought they would both be flooded with guilt at the renewed prospect of going home to their loved ones. But there was no awkwardness, no guilt. If anything, the oppressive weight of the tension between them was gone. She wondered if it was the easing of that tension that had allowed her magic to resurface. Or if the mental and physical exhaustion of the past few hours had broken down her barriers. She also thought of the fact that she and Damon had been fooling around in one another's subconscious minds, and if that had played a part. She didn't understand the connection drinking one another's blood had made, and couldn't help but wonder how that had worked.

"Uh oh, someone looks contemplative." Damon had gotten out of the shower and had a green towel slung low on his hips. He sauntered over and perched on the edge of the tub. "Is there an impending crisis of conscience I should know about? Because I'm not sure I want to be trying your favourite migraine spell on for size when your control's still a little wobbly."

She half smiled.

"No, it's not that. My conscience is strangely pretty calm about this whole thing."

"Who are you and what have you done with my judgy little frenemy-with-benefits?"

She shot him a look. He poured himself a glass of champagne and took a sip.

"So if it's not a sudden desire to plunge a chair leg through my sternum for taking advantage, what's bubbling in that cauldron of yours?"

"Just processing. Today's been a bit of a wild ride." He waggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes. "Not just that. Getting my magic back after so long without it. I'm just trying to make sense of it."

"So when did you first feel it?"

"Consciously, not until after I'd put the fire out. But up until then I was a little preoccupied if you recall."

"Vaguely." He smirked and she slapped him on the arm playfully.

She thought for a moment.

"It must've been back before I...you know."

"Yeah but it's much more fun if you say it out loud."

"Not helping. But if it was back before then, that rules out a few theories."

"So what's left, Sherlock?"

"I'm not sure. When we fed from each other - which sounds really gross for something that felt so good, by the way - and I saw your thoughts, what was that?"

"We call it blood sharing."

She remembered Elena mentioning something about it before but...

"I thought that was only possible between two vampires?"

"Usually. But I've known a few witches over the years who have managed it."

" _Known_ in the biblical sense, I take it?"

"Well..."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Witches are dynamite in the sack. Case in point."

He winked and topped off both their glasses, and she blushed a little at the compliment.

"So is it the same as vampire blood sharing?"

"Yes and no. It's kind of like hotwiring a car. It works differently but the end result is the same." Bonnie looked confused. "Vampires are fuelled by blood, so the link that forms comes pretty naturally if both parties are open to it. Witches aren't fuelled by blood, but vampire blood contains magic. If I drink from you at the same time as you drink from me, your body is forced to tap into that magic to heal. If I'm still feeding, I can hijack that connection to replicate the effects a vampire would feel."

Bonnie took a second to work through the information. Her heart lurched as she had a disturbing thought.

"Is there a chance that my body is just using the magic you gave me? That I don't have my own power back at all?"

He looked thoughtful.

"Honestly, it's possible. I've never blood shared with a witch without her powers before." She tried to conceal her disappointment. "It's equally possible that the magic in my blood jump started your juju engine."

"I guess we won't know until your blood is out of my system."

"So angsting about it tonight won't achieve anything. C'mon."

 

He held up a towel for her and wrapped it around her as she got up out of the bath. He dried her gently and she started to feel the full weight of her tiredness. She would have fallen asleep standing up if Damon didn't scoop her up and lay her down on the fresh sheets, pulling the comforter loosely over her. She turned on to her side and snuggled down.

"Do frenemies-with-benefits sleep in the same bed? M'hazy on the etiquette."

"If you want to sleep somewhere else, you're welcome to leave." Her legs wouldn't have carried her even if she wanted to. He climbed in beside her. He trailed a hand down her side and over her hip suggestively. "I will, however, be forced to try my best to persuade you to stay." 

Her body tingled, but she could barely keep her eyes open.

"I don't think I can take any more persuasion tonight."

"Then don't hog the covers."

She was asleep before he turned out the light.


	13. Good Morning

Bonnie awoke and for a moment was puzzled as to why she wasn't in her own bed. She sat up and took in her surroundings, swiftly pulling the sheet up to cover her apparent nudity. Her semi-conscious brain recognised Damon's room, a little messier than she was used to seeing it, and she thought she must definitely still be dreaming when she saw the scorch marks on the curtains. She looked to her left to see the room's regular occupant sprawled out unconscious beside her, a twisted mass of bedsheets barely kept the scene out of the R-rating, but he looked strangely innocent when he slept. She was wondering whether to find that endearing or unnerving as she blearily stumbled to the bathroom to use the facilities and smooth her hair. When she looked in the mirror, memories of the previous night came flooding back with a vengeance.  

 

Her body remembered every single detail, right down to the texture of his tongue. Her eyes widened in panic at the thought of him waking to find her still here: Would he expect her to be gone when he woke? She had no idea what to say or how she should act. She didn't know how he expected things to go from here: Was this a one off to get it out of their systems? Or would this be a regular thing now? She didn't know how she felt about any of it, but the one thing she did know is the only thing she wanted less than to have that conversation was to have it while they were naked. She cast her eyes around the room for her clothes, but then remembered the tattered shreds of her dress and discarded underwear downstairs, and fought her racing pulse when she remembered how they had gotten there. She was thinking about the best route to creep to the door when:

"I know I look good naked but your heart is pounding so loud it could wake the dead." He didn't even open his eyes.

She winced. Rumbled.

"I think it just did."

"Evidently." He stretched, causing the sliver of fabric covering his crotch to fall to the side (she averted her eyes immediately but her brain filled in the blanks all too well from memory), and squinted his eyes open. "Did I interrupt your walk of shame?"

"It's not a walk of shame."

"Well it's definitely no stride of pride."

"You're right, it's not."

"Ouch, way to bruise a guy's ego Bon."

"That's not what I..." She slumped ungracefully back onto the bed. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." He sighed. "So what's with the palpitations and the swift exit? I make killer morning-after pancakes."

She couldn't help but smile.  "These are different to your normal pancakes how?"

He rolled over onto his side and reached over to run a finger down her back.

"You'll just have to stick around and find out."

She shivered.

"Why are you being nice?"

"You were expecting what? Cold shoulder? Ejector seat? Catholic guilt"

"Maybe. To be honest I didn't know what to expect. Casual sex is kind of a new frontier for me, remember?"

He huffed an exaggerated sigh. "I hate that phrase." She looked perplexed. "Dress codes can be casual. Sports fandom can be casual. Sex should never be casual."

She barked a laugh and leaned back against the headboard.

"Says the king of meaningless hook-ups."

"I confess that I have been known to enjoy sexual encounters without commitment. But calling them casual implies lack of passion." He ran his fingers softly up and down her arm. "I don't think anyone could ever accuse me of that."   
She couldn't think of anything but his hands on her again.

"No, I guess they couldn't." She finally let her eyes meet his and instantly regretted it. Bonnie had never been on the receiving end of Damon's 'bedroom eyes' before and it was a wonder The Grill's defibrillator didn't get more use - they somehow managed to almost stop her heart and send it into a frenzy at the same time, with the underlying promise of unrestrained pleasure.

 

"Well this morning isn't going at all like I planned it, how about we start over?"

She yelped as he pulled her down the bed and leaned over her, his lean body pressing down on hers as he pulled her in for a long, deep kiss. "Good morning."

Last night, Damon had been a whirlwind of raw lust. But in the hazy light of the morning, Damon was something else entirely: Lazy, languid, and completely unhurried. He took his time lavishing attention over every inch of her, his leisurely, indolent caresses building to a slow burn under her skin that had her breathless and dizzy. He had worked his way slowly down her body, infuriatingly bypassing her most sensitive areas by trailing along her hip bones to her thighs. When he had reached her feet, he had simply turned back and started his way up the other side. When his tongue flicked along the crease at the back of her knee, the spike in heat as she remembered that tongue flicking between her legs had her flashing back to last night's fiery interlude.

"Wait, we need to stop."

"What? Why?"

She fought for breath and struggled to string a coherent sentence together.

"My magic..."

"Gotcha covered, Bonfire."

He gestured over to the corner where a fire extinguisher sat by the dresser. She went to object that it wasn't just that when he went right back to his torturously slow exploration of her body. Her back tried to arch right off the bed when he ran his tongue up her thigh, but he held her down by her hips, and she was so lost in the barrage on her senses that she was caught completely off guard when his fangs slipped into her femoral artery. He moaned at the taste of her just as her strangled cry filled the room. A second later, his fingers were working inside her and she was practically in orbit. One of her hands gripped the headboard and the other sank into his hair as she rode out the waves of her climax, but before her body had even finished convulsing he withdrew his fangs and moved his mouth to her clit. The second orgasm came out of nowhere in the midst of the first and hit her like a force of nature. Tears budded in her eyes and she bit back a scream at the overwhelming sensation as she thought her body would rip itself apart with the force of it. She had just about stopped hyperventilating when he withdrew his fingers and slid up beside her, rolling her limp body onto its side. He eased her legs apart with his hand and she numbly felt him guide himself to her entrance. Her body was overloaded already, she needed time to come down.

"Damon, I can't. It's too much."

His lips were at her ear. "Yes you can. Trust me."

She would trust him with her life. Even as her body quivered with aftershocks and she thought one feather landing on her would make her fall to pieces, she trusted him. Against everything her body was telling her, she nodded.

 

She was tight around him as he eased into her gradually. Every tiny movement threatened to send her into overdrive, and she had to focus to keep from passing out. When he was fully seated, his body flush against hers, he settled inside her for a moment before beginning to rock his hips slowly. She barely dared to breathe at first, but then it went from bordering on painful to pure rapture, her post-orgasmic state heightening every brush of his skin against hers. He sensed the moment things changed for her and started to kiss her neck, maintaining his incredibly languid pace. He passed one arm under her and held her tightly to him, gently brushing his fingertips against her breasts. His other arm snaked around her waist and his hand caressed her midriff. It was incredible - she had never felt anything so intensely. He moved in her with torturous slowness and she lost herself in it. After a while, she could feel another earth-moving orgasm winding up inside her with every unhurried thrust he made into her. She thought for a moment that there was no way he would be anywhere near ready to follow her - this had to be way too vanilla for Damon Salvatore - but when she tilted her head to tell him he could go faster if he needed to, she was surprised to find his breathing ragged as he caught her lips in a fierce kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers and stuttered an exhale. He was even closer than she was. One hand eased down to the apex of her thighs and coaxed her to her peak with barely a pass at the sensitive flesh. Her cry pushed him over the edge, and their eyes locked as they both came together.

 

Given the staggering force of her climax, she was relieved to find the room was still standing and no flames in sight. He had obviously had the same thought:

"Hmm, no fire." He panted into her neck. "Must try harder."

She eased him out of her so she could turn to properly face him and bit back a whimper at the sensitivity.

"Only if you want a crash trolley in here as well as a fire extinguisher."

"Ooh, now there's a thought. I could get a lab coat and a stethoscope and we could play doctor."

"You're unbelievable."

"I know."

Bonnie fake-punched him in the chest.

"So, what's so special about these morning-after pancakes I was promised?"

"Well, they're about 3hrs later than normal pancakes." Bonnie giggled. "Want some?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

She hesitated before speaking. May as well get it over with.

"On what happens when we go out that door." Damon looked puzzled. "We never talked about how this would work. If it would be a one off, whether we would acknowledge it or not talk about it, or whatever. I just want to know what to expect."

His expression was unreadable.

"Is that why you were trying to sneak out this morning? Because you wanted a clean end to this?"

"Actually I thought you might want that."

"What gave you that impression?"

"Nothing I guess. I just... Especially with my magic back in play now. I didn't know if you would want to go back to being friends, or to act like it never happened, or..."

"It happened." He cut her off. "It happened, and I'm not sorry, and I fully intend for it to happen again." He stroked her lip with his thumb. "Often, and in all the ways you've dreamed of."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"What happens if we get to go home?"

"Given our friends' collective views on what a villainous scumbag I am, and the likely nuclear reactions from your besties and young Jeremy, I won't take offence if you want to keep your halo untarnished - what happens in 1994 can stay in 1994." 

Part of her was relieved to know he would keep this to himself if they went back: She didn't know if she could face Elena if she found out. But she didn't want Damon to think she was ashamed of him - she wasn't. In fact, if it wasn't for Elena, she might have wanted him to continue their arrangement even after they got home.

"I'm quite enjoying the tarnishing part."

"You know, if our friends ever did discover their little angel's walk on the wild side, I think a part of you might take pleasure in their shock."

"Oh?"  
"Take it from an expert: Sometimes it's good to be bad."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"C'mon." He sprung out of bed and tossed her a clean shirt and some boxers. "Let's go get you some very late breakfast."


	14. Darkest Desires

"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT."

"You kiss your undead absentee mother with that mouth?"

Damon's voice was muffled by the car keys in his mouth as he carried bags of groceries through to the kitchen.

"Not now, Damon. _Motus_."

Nothing happened. "Fuck. _Incendia_." Still nothing.

"Um, care to clue me in?"

"It's gone. My magic is gone again."

She had been trying for over an hour now. After a day of hitting the books, she had started with a locator spell on Damon when he went to the store to flex her magical muscles. Simple stuff. But when the map failed to show anything on the third try, she had tried levitating feathers and extinguishing candles, with the same lack of results. "Your blood must have left my system" A tear of frustration rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away furiously. "I never had my own power back, after all."

He put the groceries down on the hall table.

"Hey, no big. You need my blood? Sharing is caring. Not to mention fun."

"That's not the point..."

"I know. And I know it must suck. But you know what they say, when life gives you lemons..." He took a seat on the floor beside her. "Drink some vampire blood and then set the lemons on fire. Because you're a bad-ass witch, not some kid with a lemonade stand."

She sputtered a laugh.

"Okay, so looks like blood sharing is going to be a regular occurrence in the future if we have any hope of finding a way outta here."

"I'm definitely not complaining."

"Of course you're not. Dinner and a show."

"Speaking of dinner, chicken parm tonight?"

"Sometimes this whole thing is terrifyingly domestic, you know that?"

"I'm aware. I'm also aware I need to feed you and keep you happy or risk losing my new favourite plaything. Like a tamagotchi, but hot. Ooh are those a thing in 1994?"

A week ago, if Damon had referred to her as his 'plaything', she would have gone off the rails. But today it was oddly endearing. They sat quietly for a little while.

"I miss it." He turned to look at her as she spoke. "Even before we came here I missed it, but as the anchor at least I had something to tether me to the magical world."

"Of course you miss it, Bon. It was a part of you."

"Is there anything you miss like that from home?"

"There is. But if I told you what it was, it would definitely interfere with my 'keep you happy' tamagotchi plan." She looked down and tried to keep her face blank. Elena. Of course he missed her. "Not what you're thinking."

"Then what?"

He looked like he was debating it in his mind. Eventually, he spoke:

"The hunt." He eyed her warily before continuing. "Our feeding arrangement is great, don't get me wrong, but there is a part of me that will always be a predator. The chase, the fear... It's not even all about the feed or the kill: There is a look in someone's eyes when they come face to face with their own mortality that just feels... You probably think I'm horrific for wanting that."

She pushed down the self-righteous urge to be shocked or disapprove. A piece of her was missing, and the absence of it gutted her, but his problem was the opposite: There was a part of him beneath the skin itching to be free, and he had to deny that element of his nature every day. She couldn't imagine how hard that must be. But something confused her.

"You didn't always hurt or kill people. When you first came to Mystic Falls, sure, and you've had a few... incidents... since then. But between them you went months without hurting someone."

"Sometimes those 'incidents' were the result of going too long without giving in. Other times, I would indulge myself on the sly without killing, then compel the victim afterwards." She must have looked surprised. "None of you were any the wiser, but Stefan could smell their terror on me the second I walked in the door. Caroline and Elena haven't done what we've done, they wouldn't recognise the scent, but Stef knew it all too well. Little bro laid into me for it and his guilt trip held me off until I needed my next fix, and I'd hunt again." She swallowed hard. Damon had been so controlled and carefree these past months that it was easy to forget what lurked beneath the surface. As he reminisced, his eyes almost glazed over. "I used to use a trick Katherine taught me to lie in the middle of the road until some good Samaritan stopped and..." He must have noticed the look she was trying to conceal on her face. "And you've heard more than enough to give you nightmares and definitely don't want to know the details. Don't sweat it, Bon. I've got a lid on it."

"Okay." Her voice came out a little squeakier than intended.

"Well on that incredibly morbid note I have groceries to put away and dinner to prep." He leaned over to kiss her, but her head was still swimming with what he had said and she turned her head, diverting it from her lip to her cheek. She caught his frown before he got up and grabbed the bags, heading for the kitchen.

 

An hour or so later, Bonnie was in the basement. She had told Damon she was picking out a bottle of wine for dinner, but she had other intentions. She made her way to the cabinet where they kept the dried magical herbs. Wolfsbane, mandrake root... Vervain. She opened a drawer and pulled out a tiny vial containing what she needed.

"Bonnie! If you don't get your ass up here with that wine soon, I'm eating your portion."

She quickly slipped the vial into her jeanskirt pocket and grabbed the bottles of wine she had picked out, before heading back upstairs. He was plating as she rounded the corner.

"I don't mean to brag, but I think you might need a cigarette after this."

"That good, huh?"

"Damn straight." He carried the two plates to the table. "Although apparently you doubt my culinary prowess if you think you need two bottles of wine to forget the taste."

"You caught me. I confess: I'm a heathen who doesn't know whether you drink white or red with chicken parm."

He looked at her as if it was a sin on par with murder (it might even be worse in his eyes), before taking the bottle of chianti from her and making for the table. She fingered the vial in her pocket nervously as she put the rejected bottle on the counter and took her seat.

"I miss being able to Google this stuff."

"Well, seeing as you were flying blind this actually pairs pretty damn well with what we're eating, so score one for blind intuition."

 

It really was delicious, but Bonnie picked at her food.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing."

"Is this about earlier? About what I said? I knew I shouldn't have kept my mouth shut. Look, Bonnie, I'm sorry you're stuck in a time loop with a sociopathic narcissist-". She didn't speak to interrupt him, but instead took the vial out of her pocket and slid it onto the table slowly.

"What's that?"

"Witch hazel." She said matter-of-factly.

"Sorry, Bon, I don't speak new age hippy."

"I stumbled across a note a few weeks ago scribbled in the margin of grams' grimoire, written in code. Witch hazel dampens the abilities of any witch that consumes it."

"Well I can see why Sheila didn't want anyone learning that little fact." He looked puzzled. "Fascinating though this is, I don't get how it means anything for us. Your powers are gone, so this is literally the opposite of what we need right now."

"Not exactly. There is still one witch ability I have. I can't be compelled."

"Still not following, here."

"You were kind of right. I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said earlier. But not in the way you think." She took a deep breath before continuing. "We're it. We are all there is here, and you have been everything I need you to be, whenever I needed you to be it. You've been my friend, my lover, and you're even giving me a taste of my magic back that I thought was gone forever. If that part of you clawing to get out feels anything like as bad as the void where my magic should be does, I want to help."

She saw in his face the exact moment he clicked.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell, Bonnie."

"I want to do this."

"It was only yesterday you were telling me how the night I bit you in the woods years ago was the worst night of your life. Do you really want a repeat of that?" 

"Things are different now. I trust you with my life. Besides, you can just compel me to forget. What's the worst that could happen? It could even be fun." She didn't sound convinced of the last part, even to herself.

"Aside from me getting a little too into it and killing you? Bon, if you trust me with your life, you wouldn't actually believe I would end it. So for there to be any chance of this little endeavour succeeding, I'd have to compel you to be afraid of me. And if the compulsion breaks when the herbs wear off, you'd remember all that terror and all that pain, and then you'd remember that I not only caused it, but got off on it. There's no way our friendship, or whatever we are to each other, survives that. So thanks, but no thanks, I'll keep the leash on if it's all the same to you."

He threw his chair back and stormed out of the kitchen.

 

After clearing up, Bonnie found Damon in the lounge, standing by the drinks table and tossing back bourbon. He barely finished draining one glass before pouring another. He didn't look up when he spoke to her.

"You ruined a Masterchef calibre dinner tonight with your little detour into crazy town."

She moved to stand next to him and took his glass from him, forcing him to get another.

"Please. That doesn't even make our top five ruined meals since getting stuck here."

He paused for a moment.  
"It's not that I'm not grateful. I just... I can't put you through that just so I can get my kicks. You get that, right?"

It took her a second to work out how to phrase what she wanted to say.

"When I had magic of my own, it used to literally boil under my skin if I didn't let it loose every now and again. Early on, when I was trying to deny what I was, I set a car wash on fire because I didn't know how to let it out in a healthy way. And my abilities are fairly peaceful in nature. I can't imagine what you must be going through every day without even animals to hunt." She sighed. "We've been through some fairly intense stuff together, and we've both died more than the average number of times. If you think you going a little murder happy is enough to derail us, you are seriously underestimating both me and our friendship, and frankly I'm insulted." Bonnie took the vial and poured the contents into the bourbon. "But I've picked up a few of your traits over the past few months, one of which is knowing when to look past what someone says they want and do what needs to be done, even if they get mad at you for it." His eyes met hers as she downed the tumbler's contents in one. "You'd better make me scream, Salvatore."


	15. Dangerous Liaison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dubcon warning

There was a smash as the bourbon decanters hit the floor and Bonnie found herself perched on the table with Damon pressed hard between her thighs. He kissed down her neck and she arched into him.

"You're a crazy bitch, you know that?"

"So I've been told." The fervour of his kiss was making it hard to breathe. "Much as I really like where this is going, it wasn't quite the kind of screaming I had in mind." He bit her neck gently with his human teeth, drawing a gasp from her. "And I don't know how long this stuff lasts."

"Fine," he breathed onto her neck. "Here goes everything."

He held her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger as he looked her in the eyes. She saw his face, heard his voice (drowned out as it was by her own pulse), but couldn't tell you what he had said to her. It could have been barely a second or an hour, but when she snapped back to, he was kissing her again - fiercely and passionately. She didn't feel any different, certainly not afraid of him. In fact, she only wanted him closer. He slipped a hand between them, stroking her over her sodden panties. He slipped his fingers around the gusset, one finger probing into her and dragging out against her clit. She moaned into his mouth and he wound his kisses down her neck as he moved a second finger to pump into her. She ran her hand up inside his t-shirt and over his muscled stomach as he worked her into a frenzy. She was about to come, she felt the pressure rising, but even though he was doing all the right things, touching her just as he knew she loved to be touched, she didn't go over the edge. She waited for the rapturous release to hit her, but nothing. She let out a pained sigh and felt a breathy laugh at her neck.

It took her a second to put two and two together.

"What did you do to me?"

He ran his tongue up her neck and sucked on her earlobe, pausing to whisper in her ear.

"You were right." He pulled back and looked her in the eye as she desperately panted before him. "It _is_ fun to play with compulsion."

Her body was screaming at her and her blood was roaring in her ears. She couldn't process it.

"What?"

He was pressed firmly up against her, his fingers still flexing teasingly inside her.

"I might have suggested to your subconscious that you couldn't come until I let you."

Her fury broke through the fog in her brain and she pushed him off.

"You did WHAT?!"

"I thought we could try something a little more beginner level before we take the training wheels off." 

He had betrayed her trust and she was furious.

"That wasn't what we talked about."

"No, what we talked about was an incredibly stupid idea. This is better. You want to play around with mind control? Let's play."

She didn't know why she was so enraged, but guessed it was the frustration that was making her react this strongly.

"It's my body you misogynistic asshole! Who gave you the goddamn right?"

His face turned dark and his laugh was devoid of humour.

"I was wondering when the other shoe of this little Madonna/Whore act was gonna drop. And here it is." He traced his hand around the frame of her face in a mockery of tenderness and she turned away from it. "You dangle yourself in front of me like forbidden fruit and then get prissy when I take a bite. Invite me to play then change the rules of the game when they don't suit you anymore. _'Who gave me the right?'_ You did. You gave me control: I took it. You don't get a vote in what comes next." Her slap was audible as she struck him hard around the face. He didn't even flinch, which only fed her fury. "I could have compelled you to do whatever I wanted you to do, but I knew you would lose your nerve if we went off menu. Your tastes don't exactly run on the adventurous side."

It stung her more than any physical blow ever could. But she didn't let the water brimming in her eyes fall. Instead, she grabbed a piece of the shattered glass decanter and slashed at him with it. He hissed and stepped back as she caught him in the eye. Then she said the only thing she knew would hurt him:

"You're a pig. No wonder it took a sirebond for Elena to fall for you. God knows it's the only way anyone would ever choose you."

The words hung in the air for a moment as he clutched at his bleeding eye. She could have sworn she saw pain wrack his features as his uninjured eye hovered closed. But then something shifted. When his eye reopened, he was different: There was no hint of her friend or lover left there.

"You have a five minute head start: Three minutes while my eye heals, so I can see the look on your face when I rip your lungs out through your chest cavity. One minute as a courtesy to Elena. And one more, because five minutes has more poetry to it. Get the fuck out of here."

Bonnie stood dumbfounded for a moment. Things had escalated so quickly. She hadn't meant what she had said, even if he had wounded her deeply.

"Damon, I didn't mean-"

He picked up a letter opener from the table beside him and threw it. It embedded deep into her shoulder and she cried out.

"Four minutes thirty two seconds."

Pulling the dull blade from her shoulder was agonising, but the cold, irreverent way he spoke to her hurt so much she barely noticed. This wasn't her friend anymore: It was the sadist who had tormented Caroline, and who had snapped Jeremy's neck. This was the bloodthirsty vampire who killed Vicki because he was bored. This was the monster who had ripped into her throat and haunted her nightmares.

 

She ran.

 

Bonnie was struggling to keep moving. She wasn't sure how much of her time had elapsed, but she was out of breath and her shoulder throbbed. Her legs were burning and her arms stung from dozens of cuts from the thick foliage around the trees. She had stumbled to the ground twice and her right ankle was twisted, but she bit down the pain and kept going. She had stupidly realised after the first fall that she should have taken his car, but by that point it was too late to go back. Realistically she knew that if he wanted her dead, there was no way she could outrun him, but she had to try. The tops of her legs slid wetly across one another, mockingly reminding her of how differently this had all started. The knot at the apex of her thighs ached and she hated that the man who would kill her had such an effect on her, hated that part of her wanted to be caught just so she could feel his touch, even if it was snapping her neck. Distracted, her foot caught a root and she fell again, this time her knee took the brunt and she swore. Struggling to stand, she knew she couldn't run anymore. She saw a thick patch of brush and ducked inside, tiny thorns catching at her skin and clothes. She fought to calm her heart and her breath, as if that would stop his senses from tracking her.

 

She absently wondered how he might do it. Would he quickly snap her neck? Would he take her back to the boarding house and take his time? Or would he drain her? She thought of how he had once told her how drinking to kill was different. How he would tear at the flesh to make the victim bleed out faster, and panic rose in her as she remembered what that felt like. She sputtered a hysterical laugh as she realised that in a warped way she had got what she set out for in the first place: To satiate his need to hunt. Only this wouldn't end with him compelling away the memory and them going back to their bizarre brand of domesticity: It would end with her body left to rot in the woods. Would he even bother to bury her? Or would he feel remorse? Mourn her? She didn't know which to hope for. She heard impossibly quick footsteps crashing through the woods. He wasn't bothering to be stealthy - no need. A shadow flickered by as his figure flashed in the moonlight and he stopped about 15ft from her hiding spot.

"Gotta say, Bon, I'm impressed. You made it pretty far." She held her breath as he stopped to lean nonchalantly against a tree. '"I know you're there. Even if I couldn't smell your blood or hear your pulse, I know that scent from between your legs well enough." Shame burned her cheeks but she stayed silent. "I'd be lying if I didn't admit the thought of your traitorous body still jonesing for me when you know I'm going to slaughter you like an animal isn't a huge ego boost. But I think you owe me that after what you said to me. Like a stake through my cold dead heart, it was. Really you left me with no choice but to flip that pesky humanity switch."

Her stomach roiled. He hadn't... Oh god, he had looked so different after she had said it, but she never would have thought he would actually turn it off.

"Maybe this doesn't have to come to an abrupt end. I could have weeks of fun with you before you snuff it. And with our new special brand of witchy herbal supplement, who knows what I could get you to do for me before your weak little body gives out? Things humanity-on Damon would only ever fantasise about doing to a virtuous little witch. Things you wouldn't even know how to Google, let alone conceive of. I've never made anyone die from shame alone, sounds like a challenge, doesn't it Bon-Bon?"

A tear rolled down her cheek. She pulled the piece of glass shakily from her pocket, still stained with his blood. If she missed her shot at him, she might be lucky enough to still be able to end herself before he could subdue her.

"Don't make me come in those filthy brambles after you. This is a designer shirt."

She let out a steadying breath and climbed out of the bush, thorns catching her skin with every movement. She might be scared out of her wits, but she wouldn't die like a coward. He sauntered over to her and she considered making one last, hopeless dash for it, but she was rooted to the spot. When he was close enough, she lashed out with the shard of glass but he caught her arm midway and sped her back, launching her against a tree so hard that the force of it made her drop her improvised weapon.

"Now, now. You'll put someone's eye out with that."

She willed herself to stop shaking.

"Please." She squeaked out. "Please, Damon. Don't do this."

She could feel his breath on her skin, at once paralysing her with dread and evoking unwanted memories of their more tender moments: Her body still aching for him even as her mind screamed at her to flee. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent - no doubt the mix of her lingering arousal, open wounds, and blatant terror made for a heady cocktail for a vampire. He squeezed the wound on her shoulder and she screamed, but the pain seemed dulled - perhaps by the adrenaline of a person who knows they are about to die. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head to the side: This was it. She waited for her life to flash before her eyes, but it didn't. All she saw was his eyes - The black, bloodshot circles would have been unrecognisable, but she could see a hint of ice blue glaring through, and thought only of him. She'd wanted all of him, and until now she'd had his frustration, his passion, his sarcasm, his charm, his rage, his tenderness... Now she would have his brutality. She clenched her eyes shut. She screamed as she felt his fangs tear into her, but it felt strangely numb. She knew from the wetness at her collar that he had opened her throat with some ferocity, but all she could focus on was the sensation of him ripping her underwear away and entering her roughly. Her treacherous body had been ready for him through all of this, and where it should have been barbaric, it was cathartic and extraordinary. To her utter disbelief, an orgasm hit her like a bolt out of the blue, at the same time as she was bombarded with jumbled fragments of memory, but she was too lost in the ecstasy to process them. She blacked out for a moment.

 

_"...Please don't hate me for this..."_

_"....Your fear needs to be real, but it doesn't have to be all bad..."_

_"...You won't come until I bite you..."_

_"...We'll fight, you'll say something you believe I would never forgive you for..."_

_"...It won't hurt, but you'll react as if it does..."_

_"...Hope you remember the pleasure, not the pain..."_

_"...Forget this conversation until it's all over..."_


	16. Alive

"Bonnie? Bon, can you hear me?" She opened her eyes - everything was kind of a blur. She tried to sit up, but dizziness made her fall back. "Easy, you lost a lot of blood so you're still healing. Give it a minute."

She blinked a few times and let her vision settle again. She was rested up against the tree, her brain scrambling to integrate the memory of the compulsion with what she had experienced. Weirdly, the moment she had properly regained consciousness, Damon had pulled away and sat against the opposite tree, where she would have thought he would want to be close to her. Her mind flicked the pieces into place as best I it could. She still remembered the panic and the dread, but also that Damon had made sure she didn't feel any real pain. She remembered running for her life, but also how terrified he was that she would hate him for it. She remembered the awful things they had said to one another, but knew that it was all lies to make the scene play out as it had to. She even remembered believing his humanity was gone when he fed brutally from her ruined neck. But mostly she remembered that even when he was indulging the darkest part of him - an indulgence that by its very nature required her fear and pain - he had wanted her to enjoy herself, too. And she had, more than he could possibly know. Because interlaced with the whole jumbled mess she was still processing was an excitement that wasn't compelled. On some level, she had enjoyed every part of it of her own accord. Her heart still raced as she thought of it.

 

"I can still make you forget, if you let me."

"What?"

"I'm not stupid enough to think compelling you to come makes what I did any less horrific. I wanted to give you the choice, though. Sometimes not knowing what happened, your mind can fill the blanks with something worse. I hoped if you came when I bit you it might soften the blow, might make it a memory you could live with." His voice went shaky and he looked down, away from her. "But then I showed you exactly how fucking repulsive I am by taking advantage while you were bleeding out and terrified."

She felt utter disbelief as she clicked. He thought she hadn't wanted it. He thought he had... His face was wracked with guilt as his eyes shone with tears. She had never seen him cry. Elena had died, Katherine had abandoned him after 150 years of loving her, and she had never seen him cry.

"Damon..."

"I could smell the arousal lingering on you, and the line between hunger and lust was just so blurred, and then when the compulsion took effect and you started to come I just lost control. 150 years with a monster living under my skin, Bonnie, fighting it every second of every day. I've done so many awful things, but even with my humanity off I never raped anyone..."

"You still haven't."

She moved to join him, to reassure him, but he flinched when she came near.

"Bonnie, don't you dare defend me for this. There is no justification for what I did."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"Unbelievable. I could burn down a hospital for disabled orphans and you would blame it on fire regulations. Bonnie, I _stabbed_ you, I _insulted_ you, I _fed on_ you, and then I _forced myself_ on you when you were literally begging for your life. How is that anything other than utterly reprehensible?"

"Because you didn't do anything I didn't want. Because it wasn't real. And because if what you did makes you reprehensible, what does that make me for liking it?"

He looked incredulous for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, something must have gone wrong with the compulsion to make you think that way."

"Damon, damnit I know my own mind. Stop punishing yourself." He wasn't listening though, he was practically catatonic. Then, inspiration hit her: "Compel the truth out of me."

That got his attention.

"What?"

"If you're so sure this is all some fluke or I'm lying to make you feel better, compel me to tell you how I really feel about what happened."

"Are you insane? In what world is more compulsion the answer?!"

"The world where I don't want a horrible misunderstanding ruining our hard-won relationship and causing my best friend pain." He didn't say anything. "When I was afraid that you only wanted me because I was convenient, or were thinking of Elena when you were with me, you asked me to let you prove otherwise and I did. Please, Damon."

He looked up at her, eyes red from tears he needn't have shed. She moved closer to him and gently laid her hand on his arm. He took in a hesitant breath before his eyes met hers and she felt his influence.

"Tell me the truth."

The words spilled from her lips unbidden.

"I know some of the emotions and thoughts I had tonight weren't my own. Like my anger when we argued: That didn't feel right, didn't feel like me. Nor did what I said to you about Elena - I never believed that for a moment. I know my fear was real, because I really did believe your humanity was gone, and part of the reason I trust you is because I know how deeply you feel things, even when you don't want others to know it. We're actually a lot alike in that regard. But I think something in me recognised the compulsion, fought it, because even though my fear was entirely genuine, I still wanted you. I thought I was going to die, and all I could think of was your body so close to mine, and having you one last time. I think my heart knew I could trust you, even when my mind didn't, and my body wound up as the battleground. Tonight was confusing and terrifying, but it was also one of the most exciting and erotic experiences of my life." His eyes practically lit up with surprise. "I'm still sort of trying to figure out how I feel about that. And how I feel about you. But whatever the answer is, I definitely don't hate you, or feel violated. Liberated, maybe." She swallowed hard. "Please tell me to stop talking or I am just going to keep going until the herbs wear off or I die of embarrassment."

"I don't know, I'm sort of intrigued..." The ghost of a smirk appeared on his tear-stained face. Her eyes must have lit up in panic. "Fine, you're off the hook."

The urge to spew her innermost thoughts and feelings abruptly stopped, to her utmost relief.

"Asshole."

"Pervert."

She playfully slapped him on the arm, grateful to have him back.

"Remind me never to play truth or dare with you if there's witch hazel in the house."

"I just let the darkest side of myself slip the leash and it actually turned you on. If you think 'truth' is even an option anymore, you are sorely mistaken." He looked at her with obvious interest and... Awe, maybe? "How are you feeling about that?"

"Confused. Embarrassed. But also... Kind of curious. I never would have thought I would react like I did. Since we've been... Intimate..." She heard him stifle a snigger. "What's funny?"

"You can admit to borderline deviant tendencies but can't say 'fucking'?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Since we've been _fucking_ , although realistically even before you started feeding from me, it's been like I was coming out of the dark. Every time I discover something I think is a step too far, it turns out to be everything I never knew I wanted. I've never felt so alive. God, I must sound like such a freak."

"Actually, I was just thinking how incredible you are."

"Really?"

"Spoiler alert: Everyone gets it wrong when they try and define what it is to be alive. One of the drawbacks of immortality is that nothing shocks you anymore. No one warns you about that. After a while, everything becomes boring, formulaic. Music all sounds the same, everything is recycled or repackaged and sold as something new, even people are predictable. Being alive is the ability to be surprised. Before we died and came here, I can count on one hand the number of times I felt that in the past decade. But not with you. Just when I think I have you figured out, you completely blindside me." His eyes were somehow bluer than they had ever been. "You make me feel alive, too."


	17. Alive

_Alive._

 

It was the perfect word to describe how it felt when they were together: Every inch of her came alive under his touch. Every part of her was awakened by the feel of his lips, his breath, his caress.

_"You make me feel alive, too."_

Bonnie's lips met his in a gentle, tender kiss, and his responded in kind. Even though a part of her desperately wanted to throw herself on him, sink him into her, and ride him wantonly, their feather light kisses and touches provided the perfect counterpoint to the brutality of their earlier union. She slid her leg over his lap to straddle him, and undid his shirt gently and discarded hers, desperate to feel his skin against her. His lips ghosted over her collarbone and she sighed softly. Though a world away from the bruising, punishing way he had handled her earlier, she felt the impact no less: She burned for him, but though she could feel him hard beneath her, Damon showed no sign of doing anything other than taking his time. One hand steadied her back with the lightest touch, while the other grazed her side. He lavished attention with his mouth on each of her breasts in turn. When he released one damp nipple to the chill of the night air, her whimper at the sudden brisk sensation turned into a moan as the hand at her side moved to toy with it and palm her as he worked the other breast with his tongue.

 

Her stomach was coiled tight with need and she ground on him, impatient and desperate for relief. The friction of his jean-clad erection wasn't enough to satiate the throbbing ache building between her legs. She had read once in Cosmo that it was possible to come from breast play, but had chalked it up to an urban myth. That was, until he caught her nipple between his teeth. The sudden and jarringly rough sensation in complete contrast to the heartbreaking gentleness of his other touches nudged her into bliss. It wasn't like any orgasm she had ever experienced before, and instead of needing a moment to recover she was still overwhelmed with the need to have him. He moved his kisses to the underside of her breasts as he undid the buttons that ran the length of her jeanskirt and discarded it. She undid his belt and zipper, fully intending to have him where they sat, but he had other ideas as he lifted her and lay her down on the soft moss of the forest floor. He shucked off his jeans and footwear without his lips breaking contact with her skin. As Bonnie's skin met the living green of the forest, she could feel magic stirring inside her from the blood she had taken from him earlier - the herbs obviously having run their course. Her connection to nature was like a sixth sense that heightened her others. It was this sense that normally gave her an overwhelming feeling of unnatural death when she came into physical contact with vampires, but she never got that jolt with Damon anymore. In fact, nothing felt more natural or powerful than his touch.

 

He moved up over her, his lips meeting hers again, and as he pushed himself slowly into her she gasped and thought that she would never tire of that feeling: Stretching around him as he filled her was a rapturous bliss she couldn't liken to anything else. Bathed in moonlight, with the canopy of the trees above her, the earth beneath her, and Damon thrusting inside her, every one of Bonnie's senses was flooded. Her magic swelled as she tightened around him, her release imminent, but she was pulled out of the moment as she remembered the last time her magic and Damon's sexual prowess had met. She panicked a little at the thought of the woods set ablaze. Damon must have taken the speeding up of her heartbeat as a signal of her impending release as he shifted his angle slightly, his every thrust now rubbing against her clit in agonising pleasure. She couldn't have gotten the words out to tell him to stop even if every cell in her body weren't screaming for him to keep going. One hand tangled in the moss, she cried out, waves of hot pleasure searing through her as she tried desperately to contain the magic inside her. But then his stuttered curse into her neck as he rammed hard into her had her losing all control as her magic pulsed from her. But instead of a wave of hellfire, she felt and heard an almighty boom in the earth as the trees shook around her. Damon covered her with himself before realising they were in no immediate danger.

 

He breathlessly looked around them at the settling dust and falling branches.

"Was that...?"

"An earthquake."

He looked confused for a second, as if processing that there hadn't been an earthquake in the whole time they had been reliving May 10th.

"Wait...Did you...?"

She clenched her eyes shut.

"Actually I think it was a team effort."

He started laughing into her collarbone.

"You know, Bon, when people say 'the earth moved', they don't usually mean literally."

She playfully thumped him on the chest.

"It's not funny, Damon!" 

"It's kinda funny."

She covered her face with her hands.

"I'm mortified. God it's so cliché."

He sat back on his knees.

"For future reference, wishing the ground would swallow you up is also a metaphor. Y'know, just in case."

She took her hands off her face and sat up to face him.

"So are 'when hell freezes over', and 'if pigs could fly'. Which is exactly when we'll be having sex if you EVER mention this again."

He put his hands up in mock surrender. She jabbed him in the stomach for good measure and he grabbed her hands, bringing one to his mouth to kiss it.

"My lips are sealed."

He placed an open mouthed kiss on her wrist, brushing at it with his fangs in the way he knew made her knees weak. "Also a metaphor." He whispered.

They spent the next half an hour wrestling and making out in the woods, laughter filling the quiet of their empty world, and even if they weren't the only people in the world, it would have felt like it anyway.


	18. New Horizons

He had carried her home. Both were still naked, too covered in mud and blood and forest detritus to put their clothes back on.

"You know, I think we might need to shower before bed."

"No, really?" Bonnie deadpanned.

He nudged the front door closed with his elbow and headed for the stairs.

"You know, I heard if you shower with someone it's better for the environment."

He sucked the patch of skin behind her ear that drove her crazy (and might be the only clean part of her right now), just as they rounded the corner into his room.

"Well, if it saves the planet, who am I to stand in the way of a good cause."

"Attagirl."

He set her down on the counter as he turned the shower on. She slid to her feet and her knees buckled under her. He was there in an instant, his arm under her shoulder supporting her to stand.

"Shit. Sorry."

"It's not your fault. Raincheck?"

Her body ached on places she didn't know existed, but she just couldn't get enough of him.

"But I'm all dirty."

She fluttered her eyelashes coyly and he laughed.

"It's like the smutty dream version of you came to life. Just get in the damn shower."

"Ooh, you had smutty dreams about me?"

"Not the point. Shower. Now."

He swatted her on the ass for good measure as she limped into the water.

 

Bonnie actually moaned aloud at the feeling of the grime starting to wash off of her. She grabbed a sponge and shower gel and lathered up as Damon slid in next to her.

"Careful, you'll make me jealous. I don't think I've gotten that particular noise out of you all night."

 She had the fleeting thought that she would like to see him jealous. If they ever got out of here, she would make sure to dance sluttily with some guy in a bar just to watch his reaction.

She was so caught up in the thought of what he might do in that situation that by the time she snapped back to reality, the water was running clean. A broad, soapy hand ran over her breast as his hard, wet body pressed against her back. His fingers crept between her legs and they gave out beneath her. She swore as he caught her.

"Fuck. Sometimes being human really isn't all its cracked up to be."

He kissed her cheek reassuringly.

"I've got you. Turn around."

She turned to face him (Sweet Jesus, he looked good wet) and pulled his head down to kiss her. He backed her up against the wall and effortlessly lifted her so that their hips snapped together. His hard length teased at her as he kissed her deeply. The whole night had been nothing but fucking and foreplay, so she was more than ready for him. He eased himself into her and she let out a throaty moan at the depth the position allowed for. He hummed his approval at her neck and after a moment for her to adjust, began to pump in and out of her. His pace was painstakingly slow, but his hips moved in little circles that felt incredible. His lips moved to her neck and he grazed it with his teeth before kissing the spot on her collarbone that made her melt. Just as she thought nothing could possibly make this better, she opened her eyes.

 

The mirror across the room was heated so it wouldn't steam up, which she used to think of as needlessly opulent but now realised the true purpose of it. She watched the muscles of his back and his ass flex and ripple as he circled inside her. Watching him work into her was so much sexier than she would have ever thought possible. She moaned and threw her head back so she could see his lips on her neck. His face brushed her cheek as he turned and followed her eyeline.

"That's one big cross in the 'voyeur kink' box." He caught her earlobe with his teeth. "When you're a little more physically up for it, I'll stand you in front of that mirror and you can watch while I make you come. Then you can rest your hands on it while I fuck you from behind."

She let out a desperate moan as the mental image blended with the physical one in front of her. She was almost at breaking point.

"Is that a check the box for 'dirty talk' too?"

He shifted so his thrusts were quicker, but shallower, the circular motions now grinding at her clit.

"Well is it?"

"Yes"

"You want more?"

She could barely remember her own name, let alone speak, so she nodded. 

"You know how I can tell when you're close? Because you get so tight and wet, it feels so fucking good it makes my gums itch." The tension building in her was torture. The slow burn of this position and his pace had her hovering on the brink. She couldn't open her eyes without seeing him burying himself in her, couldn't listen without hearing him saying things that made her eyes roll back. "You have no idea what you do to me. I have to bite my cheek just so I don't blow my load too soon like some horny fucking teenager. Then you start to flutter and moan, and it takes every ounce of my self control not to break you, while you squeeze me so tight I see stars. When I can't take it anymore, I run a finger over your clit like this." The slight pressure sent her tumbling into ecstasy. "And then I get to feel you come apart. Fuck... Bonnie."

 

She was a firework, nothing but sparks and heat as he buried his face in her neck and she felt him rush into her. He took a few seconds for them both to catch their breath before setting her down gently. She was grateful for the wall to hold her up.

"You missed one." He looked at her quizzically. "BIG check in the 'shower sex' box."

Damon looked at her with surprise. He had moved back into the water stream to rise off.

"You never had shower sex? What, did Little Gilbert learn the facts of life from the history channel? Was there a sheet with a hole in it?"

"I would so love to hurt you right now."

"Question mark in the spanking box."

 

Bonnie laughed and took the flannel he offered her to clean herself off while he towelled himself off. She did her evening routine (slowly, so she didn't fall over again) and quickly braided her hair back. He was still lying there awake when she went back into the bedroom, giving her 'that look'.

"Not a chance in hell. I'm already sore in places I didn't know I had."

He looked at her with concern.

"Why didn't you say something? I can heal you."

"Because it's the good kind of sore, dumbass." His look of utter confusion as she got into bed made her laugh. "The kind that reminds you how good it was."

He looked like she had grown a second head.

"Eternity is nowhere near long enough to understand women."

She hit him with her pillow before plumping it up and resting on it.

"So playing rough, going slow, shower sex, talking dirty, voyeurism... Anything else a definite yes or no from our escapades so far?"

Clearly even if they weren't having any more sex tonight, that wouldn't stop him talking about it. She decided to humour him. Especially if it meant more nights like tonight.

"Oral sex. Definite yes."

"Giving or receiving?"

"Both."

"How about both at once?" She took a moment to consider whether she could actually concentrate with Damon's mouth on her. "Too slow. 'Maybe' pile."

"Hey! I was thinking about it."

"If you have to think it's either a 'maybe' or you know the answer and don't want to admit it, but you looked curious, hence 'maybe'. On that note though, if anything's a hard 'no' or a 'yes but you're embarrassed about it', I want you to be able to tell me."

"You won't make fun? What if I like something really out there, or if something kind of vanilla creeps me out?"

"I'm open minded, but we all have limits."

"Even you?"

"Furries. Food. Bodily fluids, well, other than blood and the obvious."

"Oh. Ew. Wait, _food_?"

"Blood is different. Champagne and strawberries at a push. You want to eat a sundae off someone or swim in pudding? I'm just not your guy."

She laughed at the image. "I guess that's fair."

"So, what doesn't float your boat, Bon-Bon?"

She thought for a second.

"I'm with you on the fluids, and the furries. And I don't get spanking." He raised an eyebrow. "You promised no judgement."

"Not judging. In fact, I'm not a huge fan. It's not a hard 'no' per se, just not my favourite flavour of spice."

"What is?"

"Uh-uh-uh. We're still talking about you. Any other definite no-no's?"

"Feet. Cross-dressing... That's all I can think of."

"Anal sex?"

"Why are all men obsessed with anal? It's gross."

"I'm just going through the common taboos. Why, who're we talking about? I bet it was Donovan."

"Damon!"

"It was, wasn't it? Kid's so far in the closet he's practically balls deep in Mr Tumnas."

"I literally cannot believe you just said that."

"And in answer to your misguided assertion, no it's not _gross_. It can be kind of great. If it's just the ick factor putting you off, I'd say be open to exploring a little before ruling it out completely. But if it's a hard 'no' then that's fine, too. Plenty of other extra-curriculars on offer"

She wasn't entirely convinced, but Damon hadn't steered her wrong so far.

"Fine. Not ruled out, but a sketchy maybe."

"Threesomes?"

"Isn't that kind of a moot point, what with there being only the 2 of us?"

"Hypothetically speaking."

She thought about it a little and blushed as she answered.

"Yes."

"Another girl or two guys?"

"Again, moot point."

"Humour me."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'd imagine another girl, because that's what you hear about. I've never really thought about it before. Definitely never considered two guys." 

"So consider it."

Bonnie rolled onto her back and thought: She'd still barely scratched the surface of what two people could do together (especially when one of those people was Damon), let alone three. She still wasn't sure about anal sex, so two men at once had limited options, but she had to admit the thought was intriguing.

"I think so, yes." She looked over to see if he was shocked, but naturally he wasn't. If anything he looked... amenable? "Have you ever...?"  
"That's for me to know and you to have naughty dreams about. You should get some sleep: I plan to tire you out tomorrow."

 

Her dreams were of mischievous blue eyes and two pairs of hands on her skin.


	19. Two's Company...

Bonnie woke to soft kisses on her neck and fingers trailing playfully along her sides.

"Good morning." Damon murmured into her ear, a teasing probe of his tongue running along the outer shell of her ear.

"Certainly is so far."

She was still half asleep and the whole sensation had a dream-like quality. She tried to rub her eyes to wake herself up but his hand caught hers before they reached their destination.

"I want to do something, but I need you half asleep for it to work."

"Hm?"

"It's kind of like the memory walking we did before, but you'll take the place of someone in the memory instead of watching."

His fingers ghosted the top of her thigh and she could feel his breath on her throat as he spoke. She fought to concentrate on what he was saying.

"Will I have control over it?"

"No. Your thoughts will be yours, but it's still a memory. You can't change what happened."

"What if I don't like it?"

"You'll share the person's physical reactions. If they like something," he sucked her earlobe for emphasis "you'll like it. But if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, your body will wake you up. Like from a bad dream."

She didn't need any more convincing. Damon had this way of knowing what she wanted better than she did half the time. Besides, if he kept up those light, teasing touches on her thighs she would lose her mind.

"Do it."

"Attagirl. Your 'sketchy maybe' does play a part eventually, but if you're not into it, you'll wake up before anything happens. You might surprise yourself though."

Bonnie was still sceptical, but she trusted him. She felt her eyelids droop as she drifted off in an unnatural sleep.

 

At first, Bonnie thought it hadn't worked when she awoke to Damon's lips still grazing her neck from behind. Then she realised she was upright, knelt on a bed if she wasn't mistaken. She also felt long hair tickling her shoulders as Damon brushed it back, his other hand snaking between her thighs and brushing at her apex. A sigh too high-pitched to be her own came out of her. She wanted to open her eyes, but she wasn't in control: Her host was. While she could more than appreciate the intoxicating effect Damon could have, it was frustrating. Eventually though, her host's eyelids fluttered open. They were in a lavish room - a fancy hotel suite if she had to guess. The lights were dimmed and there was champagne cooling in a bucket beside the bed. The room looked modern, so the memory couldn't be that long ago. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and if she could have reacted, she would have startled at it. Looking back at her was a pale redhead with long curly hair and freckles. She was slight, with smaller hips but larger breasts than Bonnie herself had. That would take some getting used to. Damon was also watching in the mirror as he plunged two fingers into her and another unfamiliar moan came from her throat.

 

The girl was clearly already very worked up, and Bonnie wondered how much she had missed out on coming into the memory here. Damon's fingers curled against her sweet spot and she felt it as if she would in her own body. One of his hands squeezed her breast roughly, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Her host ground against Damon's unclad erection and she heard him moan softly. He withdrew his fingers and placed himself at her entrance. As she sank slowly onto him, savouring the delicious sensation of him filling her, she would have jumped at the door opening, but it didn't seem to come as any surprise to her host, whose eyes were still closed in ecstasy.

"I see you started without me. Again. Next time, you can park the bloody car. Patience really isn't your strong suit, mate."

She knew that British drawl. _Enzo_?

"Just being attentive to our guest, buddy." She felt his hand go to her breast and he palmed it slowly in time with his thrusts. Her host let out an appreciative gasp. "It's called manners."

"Your selflessness knows no bounds." Enzo quipped.

Enzo kicked off his shoes and started to remove his shirt. Foreign eyes gazed at him appreciatively and she felt a rush of wetness in anticipation. Her host had clearly known they were expecting company, but it had come as a surprise to Bonnie - particularly Enzo of all people. Damon had hinted that he had slept with men before, both with female company and without, but she never thought that one of them might be Enzo. Though she hated the guy, she had to admit he was physically attractive, and that accent...

 

Her train of thought was derailed as he unbuttoned his jeans, lowering the waistband and pulling his erection free. Her host's mouth went dry as he took himself in hand and started to stroke himself in time to Damon's thrusts as he watched them. Bonnie was barely able to concentrate on anything but the feeling of Damon moving inside her, but her host clearly wanted more. She leaned forward, beckoning Enzo to come closer. Dropping his pants and underwear to the floor, she took him in her hand, giving a couple of experimental tugs before lowering to take him in her mouth. Enzo swore and fisted his hand in her hair as another too-high pitched moan came out around him. Bonnie barely noticed. She was completely overwhelmed with sensation, Damon's considerable length bucking inside her as she moved her mouth over Enzo's thick shaft. It was barely a minute before she could feel her host's body building to an orgasm. Damon clearly felt her tighten around him, as she felt his fingers reach around her front and with a few deft strokes she was coming apart. She felt Damon's pace quicken and the sensation was almost too much, she almost choked on Enzo as she felt Damon come inside her.

 

As she came down from her  high, Damon and Enzo both withdrew from her at once and her host whimpered at the loss. But as soon as Damon had moved, Enzo was knelt in front of her and sheathed himself inside her. The angle ensured she wasn't completely overwhelmed as she adjusted to the new pace and his different size (a little longer, but less girth). He kissed her clavicle as he moved in her. She let her head roll back and Damon met her and kissed mouth. She was so into it that she almost didn't register the lubed finger massaging between her ass cheeks. Her host didn't flinch, but Bonnie was apprehensive. So far, however, it didn't feel at all like she expected: In fact, it was kind of nice. So she gave herself over to feeling it. Enzo continued pumping into her as Damon worked her open, adding a second finger and eventually a third. Her host whimpered as he withdrew them, but she heard him squirt the lubricant onto himself, she hissed a breath in anticipation. Enzo stilled for a moment Damon slowly enter her.

 

It was incredibly tight, but he has prepared her well enough that it wasn't uncomfortable. He went a little further in with each thrust, and from the way Enzo groaned he could feel it too. He remained still until Damon had fully seated himself in her. She had never felt anything like it. She felt so full, like every inch of her was brimming with the sensation. She didn't think she could take any more, and then they started moving. As one thrust in, the other thrust out, perfectly in sync. She felt Damon reach out and grab Enzo's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper. He swore in response and Damon laughed playfully. Enzo moved his lips' attention to her breasts, his rhythm never faltering as he lavished attention on them, while Damon's ravenous lips and tongue and teeth worked her neck. Her host's breathing was shallow and she thought she might pass out from the pleasure, when a sharp tweak of her nipple brought her back from the brink. Damon's thumb was at her cheek and she took it in her mouth, sucking it and, eliciting a string of stuttered curses from him.

 

She could feel Enzo's pace starting to become erratic - he was barely hanging on and so was she. Enzo's mouth moved back up to the other side of her neck from Damon, as Damon's fingers snuck between her and Enzo's bodies. She felt him wrap his thumb and index finger around the base of Enzo's shaft as his other fingers grazed against her clit. She broke first, with Enzo following close behind. As the waves started to crash over her and she felt Enzo spill inside her, the vampires' eyes met across her shoulder and two sets of fangs descended into her neck at once, the blood pulsing out of her and into them. Damon's own release followed as she fell into oblivion.

 

Her eyes fluttered open and she was back in Damon's bed. Her whole body was tingling and she was out of breath. Damon lay beside her in a similar state. She knew she should be worried about the girl's fate: Ask Damon whether she survived playing midnight snack for two hungry and horny vampires, but Bonnie couldn't find it in herself to care. There were definitely worse ways to die: In point of fact she could speak from experience on that one. The old her would have been shocked and appalled, but she figured dying to save others over and over again had earned her a reprieve from her role as the morality police. Still, she had to say something to break the silence.

"A redhead, huh?"

"She was Irish. Enzo's choice."

"You didn't seem to mind."

"My tastes are diverse. I enjoy the whole variety pack." He eyed her curiously. "So, was that to _your_ taste?"

"Definitely." If he noted that she didn't ask after the girl, he didn't mention it.

"And would you be open to trying something else later?"

Her heartbeat stuttered with excitement and his lips curled up in a wicked smile at that.

"What kind of something else?"

"That's for me to know and you to dot dot dot"

He punctuated the dots with gentle touches of his index, middle, and ring fingers on her side. Truth be told, Bonnie didn't want to wait until later: She wanted him now. She had felt every sensation in the memory he had shared with her, and she could feel that she had definitely come during it, but physically she was left wanting. Still, she was intrigued what he might have in store for her later, and the anticipation would be half the fun. She smiled seductively at him.

"Looking forward to it."


	20. Yes Sir, No Sir

Bonnie stepped out of the shower and dried herself briskly. Reading dry reference books on magical rituals and focal objects all day had been informative (she now knew there would definitely be a tangible object linked to this realm they were in, that they would need in order to get out), but had done nothing to take her mind off of Damon's promise for tonight. She hadn't seen much of him today, save for a particularly distracting encounter when she went to fuel up on coffee and he was changing a lightbulb in the kitchen. She had watched as his shirt rode up his torso, revealing his toned stomach. He had made a snarky comment about how he should charge admission if she liked the show that much and she had returned to her studies. He was nowhere to be found at dinnertime, so she made herself some soup and a roll before deciding she could do with a shower to ease the pain in her neck from reading all day.

 

As she pulled her comb through her hair and absently stepped into her bedroom, she spotted a package on her bed with a brief note: _'Wear these - D'._

She opened the box, which contained a few scant scraps of black lace (that she presumed he considered underwear), a matching bra, and a pair of black, incredibly high heels. She lifted the set of panties out to examine them further and found there to be a large cut-out section at the back and a smaller one at the front. "Classy". She deadpanned. Still, she would play along, even if she wasn't 100% sure she could stand up in the heels. She dried her hair and put on a bare hint of make up. She looked back at the box with resignation before putting on the contents and giving herself a once over in the mirror. The underwear somehow managed to make her feel more naked than if she were actually naked. The quarter-cups of the bra left her nipples exposed, and her entire ass - which she had to admit, looked fantastic with the heels - was on display. She rolled her eyes at what some men apparently find sexy (though she couldn't say she was surprised that Damon was one of them) and grabbed a simple black dress from her closet to throw on. She could still feel the kiss of air on her exposed skin below the skirt, but supposed it was better than nothing. Teetering on her heels, she made her way down the hall to Damon's room.

 

The door was uncharacteristically closed, so on instinct, she knocked. She almost gasped when she saw him. Damn - She had forgotten how devastatingly attractive he looked in a suit. He, however, didn't seem similarly enamoured with her outfit choice.

"What are you wearing?" He practically sneered.

"This? Don't you like it?"

"I thought my instructions were pretty clear."

"Oh, um... I'm wearing those underneath." She couldn't fight the scarlet rising to her cheeks.

"Do I not do my best to look nice for you? Did my note say _'wear these and whatever the fuck you want'_?" Her heart hammered in her chest.

"No. I just thought..." His eyes were cold and uncompromising. Whatever this was, it was no doubt part of what he had in mind for them this evening. "I'm sorry."

"Take it off."

"What?"

"Did I stutter? Take. It. Off."

She wasn't even over the threshold of the room yet.

She undid the ribbon at the back of her dress and tugged it over her head. He didn't offer to take it, so she dropped it on the floor. He looked her up and down slowly and she blushed furiously under his scrutiny.

"Turn."

She kept her eyes on his face as she turned on the ball of her foot. She saw a hunger blaze in his eyes for a moment before his uncaring mask descended again. He moved to one side in the doorway to let her in, and she breathed in his scent as she passed him. His room was the same as usual, except the bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne that usually lived beside his bathtub was beside the bed, and one of his armchairs had been placed a couple of meters from the foot of the bed.

"I had high hopes for tonight, but seeing as you are unable to follow even the simplest of instructions, it seems I might need to employ some assistance."

He pulled a small pouch of herbs from his jacket pocket. Witch hazel - her heart raced slightly in excitement and anticipation as she remembered the last time she had consumed the herb and he had compelled her. Surely he didn't expect her to run through the forest dressed like this?! He tipped the contents into a glass of champagne and passed it to her.

"Cheers."

He clinked his glass against hers and took a sip, his eyes never leaving her as he watched expectantly. She took his cue and drained her glass.

"You will do exactly what I tell you to do. No hesitation. No arguing. Is that clear?"

She nodded.

"Get on the bed." He gestured to her heels "Keep those on."

Her heart fluttered slightly at the gravelly command in his voice. She sat on the mattress and expected him to join her, but instead he took a seat in the armchair, casually draping an ankle over his knee.

"In the middle."

She crawled to where the two sets of pillows met and folded her legs on front of her, her knees demurely together. Before she could tuck her ankles under her, he continued:

"Lift your knees and open your legs."

She bent her knees and parted them slightly.

"Wider."

She fought the scarlet blush rising to her cheeks as she splayed her legs, her sex on full display in the scant underwear. He regarded her for a moment appreciatively.

"Touch yourself."

 

She wanted to ask him to repeat himself, ask him what he meant - anything to stall. But the compulsion had taken hold, and her fingers were already moving between her legs. His piercing gaze never faltered for a second, and as her eyes met his, took him in, she bit back a moan as her fingers dragged her wetness over her clit. She should have been mortified, but having him watch her was intensely erotic, even if she did wish it was his hands on her. She couldn't fail to be aware of him watching her, but she was heedless of his scrutiny as she fell into a rhythm with her body. It wasn't long before she was soaking through the scant fabric and panting. Her pace increased and she pushed her legs together for more friction.

"Keep your legs apart. Slower."

Infuriatingly, her traitorous body heeded his instruction. She swallowed a frustrated moan as her fingers slowly circled her aching clit.

"Don't suppress your sounds. Be vocal. I want to hear you."

Moans and sighs spilled from her unreservedly: She had never let herself be so indiscreet and it was freeing, but the slow build up was the most delicious torture and she ached for release. She would have thought he would be clamouring to lay his hands on her by now, but irksomely he remained impassive, watching her with those ethereal bedroom eyes. Painfully slowly, she built herself to a peak. A couple more passes of her fingers and she would feel the sweet relief.

"Stop."

She didn't know if she wanted to cry or scream when her body unwillingly obeyed his command.

"Come to me." He uncrossed his legs. "Put your knees either side of me."

 _Finally,_ she thought.

 

The armchair was wide enough that it could accommodate her legs either side of his lap. She could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his trousers and she unconsciously licked her lips. She went to undo his belt but his hand swiftly moved to stop her.

"Did I say to do that?"

"No." She wanted to say _'but surely that's why I'm here?!_ ' but the compulsion wouldn't let her argue.

"You may continue to touch yourself. You may not come without my permission. Do you understand?"

He was near enough that she could feel his breath kiss her breasts as he spoke. She wanted to beg him, but instead she could only nod as her fingers returned to her aching clit. Her first moan was more of a sob as she felt his cock twitch beneath her. His eyes still betrayed nothing as every sound that normally died in her throat was compelled forth. She barely managed three passes of her fingers before they stuttered to a halt, his command denying her release. The same was true the second time, and the third. By the eighth her entire body was shaking with need and she could barely breathe. His gaze shifted from watching her fingers work to meet her eyes as he reached his own fingers down and tweaked her swollen clit hard. She screamed as her orgasm tore through her - it felt like she was being torn apart and every muscle in her quaked with the violence of it. Her eyes lined with silver in pure relief as she fell limp and trembling against him, even the fine weave of his suit fabric felt too much against her skin. Damon threaded his hand gently in her hair and pressed a featherlight kiss to her neck, another just below her ear.

"Funny." He whispered softly into the shell of her ear, before immediately yanking her hair hard enough to jerk her head back, the blue of his eyes blazing. "I don't recall giving you my permission to come. Get up."

 

Her legs still felt like jello from the bone-shattering orgasm, and she barely held herself upright on the sky high heels she was still obediently wearing.

"Hands behind your back." She did as she was told as he strode over to the side of the bed, she watched him remove his jacket and tie. "Eyes front."

Her head snapped forward, but from the sounds of the cloth continuing to rustle, he had also removed his shirt. She felt him move behind her. He grabbed her arms roughly and placed her forearms together behind her back, making her back straighten and pushing her breasts forward. She felt a thin strap - his tie, she realised - wrap around her forearms, binding them together.

"Twice tonight you've disobeyed very simple instructions." He tested the tautness of the bindings before tying it off with a knot. "I'm not mad, Bonnie, I'm just disappointed. I've been so nice to you, and this is what I get in return?"

Satisfied with his handiwork, he moved back around to stand in front of her. She heard a soft 'clink' before he entered her eyeline, but wasn't sure what it could be. He could have picked something up, but his hands were behind his back.

"Close your eyes."

 

He moved silently, so she couldn't figure out what he was going to do next. She felt a gentle caress at her breast, which was mostly bare due to the immodest quarter-cup bra, a thumb brushing her over-stimulated nipple as his rough hand ran firmly across her smooth skin. It was just beginning to move from almost painfully sensitive to feeling nice when she felt a spike of cold against her searing flesh. She cried out and jerked back, but he held her firm. "Don't move." He must have grabbed an ice cube from the champagne bucket - that was the noise she heard. He returned to running the thin edge along her hot skin and she whimpered. The way she was bound, with her breasts pushed out to meet him, left her defenceless. When the skin had started to cool enough that she no longer felt the sting as much, he moved to the other side and did the same. Bonnie gasped when she felt his mouth close around the one he had started with, the comparative heat of his mouth burning her all over again, but the texture of his tongue against peaked skin felt so good it confused her senses. The sound she made was somewhere between a sob and a moan. She was so caught up in the sensation of his mouth on her that she forgot about that fucking ice cube. A moment later he pressed it to her swollen, burning, throbbing clit and she screamed. He moved it back and forth with his fingers as he continued to lave her nipple and it was the most torturous ecstasy. It didn't take long for it to melt until it was just his fingers on her again and she was writhing into him, teetering on her heels as her traitorous body begged for more.

 

He kissed his way up her chest, up to her neck where he lingered for a moment, pressing his fangs in just gently for a frustratingly brief taste before continuing up to her ear.

"On your knees. You can open your eyes."

She did as she was told, but without the use of her hands she was clumsy, her knee scuffing against the carpet. When she was stable, Damon slowly undid his belt and fly, pulling his erection free. His restraint had been masterful, especially now seeing how painfully hard he was, pre-cum leaking from his tip.

"Take me in your mouth."

The compulsion was wholly unnecessary: She found she was desperate to taste him. With her hands still bound, it wasn't as smooth a motion as she would have liked, but as her lips closed around his swollen tip and she swirled her tongue around him, the curse he sighed was a thing of beauty. Though bound, compelled, and on her knees, she felt powerful as she moved her mouth on him, listening to the sounds of enjoyment she wrung from him like the sweetest music. She watched his eyes drift closed and his hips bucked almost imperceptibly into her as she moved.

 

Given his earlier restraint, it wasn't long before he was close. Bonnie picked up her pace in response.

"Stop."

She was dying to ignore him, but the compulsion still held and she halted. He withdrew himself gently from her mouth.

"Lean back against the bed."

She shuffled so that she could do so, her body angled backwards and pushing her breasts higher. She watched enraptured as Damon took his cock in his hand and stood over her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her prone form while he stroked himself tantalising inches from her mouth. This time when he reached his peak, he didn't back down, and she watched his face scrunch up as he spurted hot seed over her breasts. It was one of the sexiest things she had ever seen. His breathing evened again and he opened his eyes. They way he looked at her...

 

"Fuck, Bonnie, you're perfect. Don't move, one sec."

He tucked himself back inside his pants and moved to open a nearby drawer he pulled put an old Polaroid camera. He paused for a moment for her to object, but she nodded. There was a flash as he snapped an image, before setting the camera down. He pulled a tab on his tie and she gleefully stretched her arms while he headed to the bathroom and she heard the faucet running. He returned with a damp washcloth and began to wipe her off gently as the camera printed the image. She swept her legs to the side to sit more comfortably as he cleaned her with reverence. She still felt the ghost of it on her skin, like a brand.

"I am never going to look at you in a suit the same way again."

"Ooh. That could be fun when we get back. Ten years down the line, we meet up at Tyler Lockwood's painfully chintzy wedding, our eyes meet across a punch bowl surrounded by mason jars, squealing page boys running amok, and all of a sudden your date is wondering why you're pulling him into a coat check closet and yanking off his tie."

Bonnie slapped him playfully.

"Can I see?" Bonnie jerked her head towards the camera.

"You aren't the target audience." He smirked.

"Gimme." He smirked at her and handed her the photo.

 

She examined it carefully. The woman in the picture was scarcely recognisable. Her face was flushed with desire, eyes lidded, lips plumped from working Damon's cock, knees splayed to display her glistening sex, and propped up on her fuck-me heels. There were carpet burns on her knees and blood trickled down a bound arm from the bite mark on her neck she had almost forgotten about. Her nipples were peaked from the ice, full breasts pushed up by her bindings and that ridiculous (but she had to admit now, very sexy) underwear, and Damon's seed prominently displayed on them. Damon eyed her cautiously, awaiting her reaction.

"We should frame this. Display it in the hallway."

He raised his eyebrow and sat down next to her.

"You sure you don't want to go the whole hog, get it blown up and paper the library wall with it?"

He was making fun, but she wasn't.

"I'm serious. I love it." He huffed an incredulous laugh. "Besides, it's not like we have neighbours to scandalise."

"Almost makes me wish we did. Can you imagine?"

She did, and the thought appealed more than she intended to let on.


	21. Seconds

Damon picked up the tie and straightened it between his fingers for a moment before putting it in his pocket.

"Are you done with that?" Bonnie murmured.

He was obviously surprised and a little delighted to hear the hint of disappointment in her voice. Her senses had been pushed to their limits tonight, but she still hadn't had him inside her, and she knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she had.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On how nicely you ask."

She threw one of his trademark smirks back at him. She could play this game. She got up on her knees (and tried not to wince at the forgotten carpet burns) and straddled him. He expected her to go for a kiss, but instead she looked him dead in the eyes, one hand trailing gently across her breast as the other dove inside her crotchless panties.

"Please." She breathed.

He remained impassive _. Damnit_.

"Try harder"

She plunged two fingers inside herself and moaned. She pulled them out and put them to her mouth, sucking her own taste off of them.

"Please."

She could feel his stirring arousal and see he was starting to waver.

"Please what?"

 _Gotcha_. "Please tie me up again." She offered him the two fingers from her mouth and he eagerly sucked them, earning a breathy sigh from her. "Fuck me, Damon. Please."

 

Lightning fast, he grabbed her wrists, bound them in front of her and vamp sped her to his closet, ripping off their remaining scraps of clothing as he went. On the inside of the door, there was a hook with a carabiner clip she had never really noted before. Would've thought maybe it was for hanging jackets. She learned its true purpose as he pressed her front into the door and suspended her bound wrists from it, his renewed erection digging at her bare backside. He kissed her neck roughly, dragging two fingers through her wetness.

"I knew when I first met you that under all that judgy repression, there was a sexual side screaming to get out."

He writhed his fingers inside her. It wasn't enough. Wasn't nearly enough.

"But now you've shown your true colours? God, even I never guessed you'd be such a nympho."

He withdrew his fingers and she almost cried out, but then she felt him slide them slowly backwards. When he brushed one at the entrance to her ass, her throat went dry in anticipation.

"Look at you. A couple months back, butter wouldn't melt. Ten minutes ago, my cum was all over your tits, and now you're mewling like a cat in heat while you think about how my cock would feel in your ass. Probably thinking about how it felt to have two men banging you like a fucking drum in that memory."

He grabbed her hair and yanked back so hard her neck hurt, his other hand moving back to tease her clit as he whispered in her ear.

"Let's get something straight, you little slut. You're mine. Your mouth is mine. Your pussy is mine. And when the time comes to part those flawless cheeks," he probed her gently and her eyes rolled back "your ass will be mine too. When my fingers are in you, I want you to know who they belong to. I want you to know it's my dick you're riding when your walls start to flutter. And I want my name to fall from your whore lips when you come. Am I understood?"

Bonnie was in her own little world listening to the filthy words spewing from his lips like they were poetry. God, she could get off just listening to him. When she didn't reply he yanked her hair back again and she cried out.

"Am I understood, Bonnie?"

She tried to nod, but he held her fast.

"Yes."

 

Faster than she could blink, he turned her around and had her legs hitched up behind him, his cock pressed at her entrance.

"Please, Damon."

His nose ran on her neck, no doubt savouring the scent of her blood mixed with her arousal. She rocked against him but still he didn't budge.

"Say it again."

"Please."

He entered her so slowly it was maddening, but the slowness combined with her sensitivity made it feel like he went on forever, filling her completely. Her mouth made an 'O' shape but no sound emerged. When he was fully seated inside her, he halted. It should have been frustrating, but it felt more like approaching the top of a roller coaster and anticipating the drop. His mouth brushed lightly at her neck. And then he started moving.

 

He rode her hard. Every thrust sent a jolt of momentum through her and she struggled at her bindings, desperate to hold on to something. Occasionally, more of those beautiful obscenities would fall from his lips: He would describe how she felt around him, or admonish her for being a disobedient cockslut. Sometimes all he said was her name. And with every rampant thrust, all she could think was his.

_Damon._

_Damon._

_Damon._

Her heels dug into his backside as he rammed her. Just when she thought she might catch fire from the fervour of his desire, he sank his fangs into her neck, and she was done for. As she felt his pounding rhythm echo in the draw from her veins, her walls fluttered and she broke, his name coming unbidden from her lips over and over. His final thrust into her, she was so tight around him she could feel him flood into her as he silenced his own cry against her skin. They rested a moment, propped together and panting, before he untied her hands.

"I want a picture of you."

"Huh?"

Damon's faculties clearly hadn't fully returned to him yet as he threw himself on the bed. Bonnie kept talking as she went to the bathroom, knowing he could hear her.

"Like the one you took of me. I want one of you, at least a mental one... But I don't know how to be in control. Especially with you."

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not completely fascinated by the idea. But what do you mean 'especially with me'?"

"Well you're... you. How do you shock or scare or surprise someone who's done everything twice before?"

"Oh, please. You surprise me everyday, Bon."

"Fine, but where's the threat? The anticipation? I can't even hurt you a little because you heal right up."

As she walked back in he looked contemplative.

"Let me think on it. We might have to get a little creative." She got in the bed next to him and he folded over her. "You up for that?"

She could already feel he was. _Damn, vampires are insatiable._

"With you? Creative and experimental are my new favourite words."

After he leaned in to whisper _"slut"_ in her ear, the ensuing pillow-fight kept them awake for another fifteen minutes, and she wondered if she had ever smiled this much before a satisfied sleep took hold of them.


	22. Blast From The Past

The next day, Bonnie was in the library practicing floating and twirling a pencil; control was slightly trickier with borrowed magic, and she found herself spending longer on the basics. She had spent the morning in bed with Damon having slow, lazy sex and blood sharing (she was really going to miss that if and when they got back). Damon strode in purposefully and started going through the stacks of grimoires she had arranged around her chair.

"What the hell Damon!? Those are in a very specific order so please don't mix them up." A loud thump of a book being tossed to the side made her lose concentration and drop the pencil. "What are you even looking for anyway? It's not like you can use any of this stuff."

He didn't look up from the book he was perusing as he replied.

"Astute observation, Hermione, I can't. But you can."

Her heart jumped for a second.

"Did you think of something about getting us home?"

"What? No. This is way more important. This is for sexy times."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. Of course, if anything was going to put a fire under Damon's ass, it would definitely involve sex.

"Fine. Tell me what it is so I can help you and go back to doing important stuff."

"Patience, Witchy. All good things to those who wait." 

He snapped the book shut with a flourish and winked in her direction before taking the book and heading out of the room. Whatever it was, she had to admit she was intrigued. 

 

\---

 

"Focal object regression." Bonnie read aloud as she sat down to hear what Damon had been working on. "I've read about this in Native American covens. They use this to convene with their ancestors or past lives using totems, right?" 

"Usually, but my hope is that we can go off book a little."

He handed her an etched silver frame containing a very old, faded photograph. The sepia colouring and poor definition did little to diminish how handsome he looked (even in a confederate uniform). Although this couldn't have been taken much more than a year before he died, he looked so young, especially with his cheeks flush with life. 

"You want the past you to possess current you? Why?" 

"You said yesterday that you didn't know how to be in control if it was with me. I get that. But 1863 me?" He tapped the glass of the frame. "This guy is young, naive, and a product of his time. You'll eat him for breakfast."

 

Bonnie was still processing the idea. "Was he... I mean were you..."

He clocked her meaning. "Was I a virgin? Sorry to disappoint, Bon, but you don't get to pop my cherry. I bet Saint Stefan would never tell a soul this, but our father hired prostitutes for us when we were barely adolescent - I think I was 13 or so when it happened to me. Said we couldn't be real men until we'd been inside a woman. Giuseppe Salvatore was a real peach, if you hadn't guessed. Then after I enlisted, us soldiers were drowning in willing women looking for dalliances, and I was never the virtuous type. But the women of that time, they weren't like you. The me in that picture has never encountered a woman as in control of her sexuality as you are. He won't for a little while yet."

 _Katherine_. Bonnie thought. It was almost impossible to imagine a Damon before her influence. She was curious to meet him. Something still didn't make a lot of sense though.

"If I use this spell, it will put past you into present you's body. Won't he be a vampire?" 

"That brings me on to the second ingredient of this little experiment." He pulled a syringe half filled with yellow liquid from his pocket. Vervain. "This should be just enough to reduce my body to human strength, slow the healing rate, and dampen the bloodlust. Might want to avoid opening a vein though, just in case."

"I'm guessing doing magic is out of the question as well?"

"To a guy from 1863, indoor plumbing is magic. Do it, don't do it - It's up to you. He won't remember anything, so you can't do any permanent damage."

Bonnie hesitated a little before realising there was no delicate way to ask the next question. 

"Will he find a woman of colour attractive?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I'm not an idiot, Damon, there is no way a well-born southern family with an estate like yours didn't keep slaves. You fought for the confederacy, for the love of God. I know there is a decent chance he won't even consider me a person."

Damon took a seat next to her. "I enlisted purely to please my father. My family owned slaves, but my mother became ill and died when Stefan and I were still relatively young and my father was... Well, the less said the better. Suffice it to say we were practically raised by those women. I respected them. I've done some inconceivably bad things in my long life, but my biggest shame is that I stood by as my father beat them, took them to his bed. I still wish it had been me that killed the bastard." He huffed a sigh. "My point is that the guy in that picture might not be as brave or strong as he should be, but he won't think less of you because of the colour of your skin. Truth be told, if she hadn't hated me with a passion and it wouldn't have put both our lives at risk, I might have pursued Emily instead of Katherine. Wouldn't that have been a turn up for the history books?"

She pictured the angry mob that would have shown up at his door. Not to mention he would have been her great-times-a-few-grandfather. Ew.

"Sounds like you were pretty progressive for your time."

He looked her up and down, his eyes resting on her denim short shorts.

"Not that progressive. To risk a vamp migraine, how would you feel about a costume change?" She followed his train of thought and smiled wickedly. 

"I don't know, I quite like the idea of scandalising a young Damon Salvatore by showing a little leg."

"Okay. One, that isn't 'a little leg' so much as two entire legs. I'm not complaining, but in the 1800's an ankle was considered risqué, so you're likely to give our guest a heart attack. Two, I'm pretty sure that by this point I had mastered the art of unfastening a corset one handed, and that is a skill I wouldn't want to deprive the poor guy of putting to use."

 

An hour later, Bonnie found herself sat cross legged on the floor, trying and failing to get comfortable in the restrictive garments. She had out and out refused full period garb, and instead wore a black corset and black stretchy full length skirt. She had her arms covered with a long, green shawl that kept her movement unrestricted while keeping her modestly covered. 

"Are you sure I can't just wear leggings and a sweater?" 

"Relax, Glinda, you're not planning on keeping it on long anyways."

The spell and vervain would both last for 12 hours, after which he would be himself again. She wondered if he would see any of it - if he might be a passenger the way she had been in that girl in his memory, though all the information said he wouldn't remember a thing. She quickly put the thought out of her mind, knowing she wouldn't be able to be authoritative if she knew he was watching from the sidelines. 

She watched as he sat opposite her and hissed as he injected himself with the vervain: That was her cue to start the spell.

 

She lit the herbs and placed the bunch on top of the photograph in the bowl between them and began chanting. For the first minute or so, Damon's gaze didn't leave her face, and she wanted to stop and yell at him for breaking her concentration, but then his eyelids began to droop. Another minute and he fell backwards. She wondered briefly if he had overestimated the amount of vervain and accidentally knocked himself out, but then his body started to twitch. As he convulsed, an unmistakably magical light flowed from the herbs and entered his body, and he went preternaturally still. When he sat up, it was clear that the spell had worked. Where the Damon she knew held himself with a relaxed, feline ease, the person in front of her was stiff and formal. He stood, not noticing her presence as he took in his surroundings with not a small amount of panic. She wondered what setting she might have pulled him from. When eventually his eyes flitted back to her, he stumbled back a little as she rose to face him. 

"My apologies, Miss. You startled me. I was not aware I had company."

 

Damon's hair always looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, but after living with him these past months, Bonnie now knew it took him a while to get it looking so perfectly imperfect. Watching him smooth it down was a strange sight to behold. 

"Please excuse my dishevelled appearance. I am afraid I find myself at something of a loss as to my whereabouts." She stifled a laugh at how prim and proper he was as he hastily tucked in his shirt and did the buttons at the top all the way up. "I do not recall if we have been properly introduced. I am Damon Salvatore."

"Bonnie Bennett." She offered her hand out of habit, and was mentally admonishing herself when he took it in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. 

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennett."

She almost wanted to throw the whole idea out the window and spend her 12 hours getting to know the charming southern gentleman in front of her, maybe get some solid blackmail material, but she set herself back on track: She had a plan (well, the semblance of one) and she would stick to it. 

 

"I am ashamed to admit that I may have indulged in an excess of bourbon last night, and now I find myself in unfamiliar surroundings." Damon continued, oblivious. "Whose residence are we in?" 

Here goes... 

"This isn't a residence, Damon, this is a prison. My prison. I was banished here."

"What was your crime?" 

"Witchcraft." He looked sceptical, but before he could voice his disbelief: " _Phesmatos Incendia_." The fireplace burst into life before him, having the desired effect as he staggered backwards. " _Motus_." The armchair shot across the room, hitting the back of his knees as he fell backwards into it. "I did some very bad things. People died. I'm trapped here, and thanks to a little magic, now so are you." It was close enough to the truth that she could easily remain credible.

"Why bring me here?" 

"Because you remind me of someone. And because I need someone to warm my bed." She let the shawl slip down one of her shoulders. "Exile can be lonely."

He swallowed thickly. Bonnie knew him well enough by now to spot that underneath the trepidation, his eyes had the beginnings of that lust-addled fog she loved to be the cause of.  

"How long must I stay?" 

"Until I'm satisfied. I'm a reasonable woman. Do as I say, exceed my expectations, and I might free you at dawn. If you don't..." He clutched his head as she gave him a short burst of vampire migraine "I might be less inclined to be nice."

He had the look of a rabbit caught in the headlights as he no doubt contemplated what else her magic was capable of, and for a moment she wondered if she had pushed too far too soon. She softened her stance a little and eased closer, dropping her shawl to the floor and exposing the expanse of skin from neck to bust.

"You're a soldier, aren't you? Following orders to bed a beautiful woman should be no hardship." 

His eyes darkened lustfully as he took her in, and he sat a little straighter.

"Tell me what you would have of me. I serve at your will."

 _Wow_. Clearly Damon's tastes ran a little on the wild side even while he was still human.

"Stand. Remove your shoes and socks, and unbutton your shirt."

He did exactly as she asked, in the order she asked it, before defaulting to a military 'at ease' stance. With his shirt still tucked in but undone, he looked like the cover art of one of those trashy romance novels Caroline used to steal from her mom. She approached and ran her hands possessive over his bared skin. He exhaled heavily as her hands passed over the lower panes of his chest, her fingers dancing lightly over the V of his hips. The candles dotted around the room flared to life.

"Get on the bed."

He dutifully complied. When she crawled on with him and applied light pressure to his chest, he lay back.

"Close your eyes. Keep them closed. And lie still."

 

She untucked his shirt and pulled it to the sides, baring his chest fully. He hissed as she dripped hot wax from one candle onto his bare skin in a trail down his torso. He obediently kept his eyes closed. As each droplet hardened slowly, she used her fingers to ease it off and soothed the hurt with her lips and tongue as it faded (slower than normal thanks to the vervain, but still faster than a human). His breathing had quickened and as she repeated the process, she found him arching toward her in anticipation of the cooling caress of her lips. When she dragged her lips over the latest reddened patch near his nipple, and she flicked her tongue out to tease it, she saw his hand twist in the sheets. A glance at his tented crotch showed he was enjoying the fine line between pleasure and pain, much as the dampness in her underwear confessed that she was enjoying the power play. But teasing was quickly becoming too little to satisfy her.

 

"Damon," Bonnie had eased her way up his body and had just run her tongue along his neck. "Have you ever pleasured a woman with your mouth before?"

Her teeth tugged lightly at his ear lobe and he swallowed hard before answering breathlessly. 

"I confess I have not."

Bonnie thought back to the first time she had slept with Damon (her Damon). When he had... How had he put it? _'blown her Sunday school socks off'_. He had brought her to the brink over and over in different ways until she had almost been delirious. He'd done it again many times since, and she knew the potential of that wicked tongue. A little thrill ran through her at the thought of being able to be a first for him the way he had been so many firsts for her.

Bonnie discarded her skirt leaving her in only her corset and underwear. She loved this set as the panties laced at the side, and she was beginning to think there might not be enough lingerie in their little world to last her for long if Damon kept tearing them to shreds. She rose up onto her knees and eased one over him so she was straddling high on his torso. She pulled the pillows out from under his head and discarded them, before positioning herself and leaning forward against the headboard. She undid the bows at sides of her underwear and pulled them away, revealing her parted sex to him. She was about to lower herself to his mouth, but he clearly had other ideas as he lifted his head to meet her. His first, tentative kiss caught her by surprise, followed by a teasing flick of his tongue as he adjusted to her flavour. Then he began to devour her in earnest. 

 

What 1863 Damon lacked in technique, he definitely made up for in enthusiasm. Every third pass of his tongue was accompanied by a satisfied groan and he held her thighs fast against him as if he couldn't get enough. Bonnie offered sounds of encouragement, which he attentively used to refine his performance. When he zoned his attention on her clit, she cried out and his focus tightened immediately. She was struggling to catch her breath in the damn corset, and just as the thought occurred to her, she felt a deft hand working the strings at her back. After a few moments, she felt the corset loosen and fall away, the air flooding her lungs enhancing her high. She found herself agreeing with Damon's earlier assertion: It was definitely a lost art. She felt his hand creep along her thigh and when he pressed two fingers into her and sucked on her clit, she knew it would be moments before she was coming apart. However, she didn't want to come like this. Reluctantly she went to ease herself away from him, but his free hand firmly gripped her to him, pulling her in impossibly closer, and damn if it wasn't the sexiest thing that he wanted her like this, but it was interfering with her plans. 

"Damon... Stop."

Ever obedient, he did, and she had to bite back a sob as she felt his fingers withdraw and the cool kiss of his panting breaths on her soaked sex as he pulled back.

"Did I do something wrong, Miss Bennett?"

All the playful nicknaming in the world couldn't have prepared her for his raspy voice calling her _that_. She ignored his question, desperate to feel him inside her as soon as possible. 

"Sit up." 

He eased himself to a sitting position and she tried not to react to the staggering hardness of him beneath her as she undid his pants and pulled him free. As she confidently took him in hand, jerking him roughly, Bonnie's magic flared and her corset strings flew to the headboard, wrapping themselves around his wrists, arms and neck, and anchoring themselves to the posts of his bed. His arms were pulled taut, and the vervain weakened him so that he couldn't break free. Even if he could, he wouldn't have disobeyed her. She sank down onto his length slowly and the guttural noise he emitted and the way he threw his head back was almost enough to distract her from the delicious feeling. Almost. She felt his hips move, but used her own hips to push him back down. 

"Don't move. I want you to stay completely still. You won't finish until I tell you it's okay to. If you do." She used her power to pull the strings tighter so they bit into his skin, choking him slightly. "I might not feel like being kind anymore. Do you understand?"

He nodded, and with some visible effort stilled beneath her.

 

The first few times, she almost withdrew from him completely before plunging down. She watched as his eyes rolled back into his head and felt drunk with power. Whilst she usually loved the sensation of him writhing against her, using his body for her pleasure was uniquely erotic. Somehow with him remaining motionless, she felt every inch of his velvet smooth shaft more intensely than ever before, and it made her quake with pleasure. She began to ride him more quickly, enjoying the sight of his trembling muscles fighting the instinctual urge to thrust with her. His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration and sweat beaded on his brow. He felt incredible, but she knew this would have to be quick or else he wouldn't physically be able to accede to her command. To speed her own release, she dipped a hand to her clit and rubbed in time with her movements. The foreign sensation caused his eyes to flit open and he must have immediately regretted casting his gaze downward as she felt his thighs tense. She heard him mutter a " _please_ " through gritted teeth. In spite of how much more difficult it had to make things for him, it was like he was spellbound by the sight of them joined, her fingers working at her apex. She could feel her walls begin to flutter as the heat coiled in her built to its peak, and she used her free hand to turn Damon's head upward, his eyes meeting hers. The hunger and desperation she saw in them was enough to send her tumbling over the edge, and through her haze she saw him pull hard at his restraints. He knew they were spelled, and would not release him until Bonnie commanded it, and it wasn't until she had started to bask in her afterglow that she spotted the red marks fading around his neck and wrists: He had used the pain to keep his own climax at bay.

 

The spelled bindings fell away at her unspoken command, and Damon cautiously let his arms fall to his sides. Bonnie could tell he was trying to gauge whether he would be allowed to move freely now to seek his own pleasure in her. And in truth, she wanted nothing more than for him to throw her down and take his frustration out on her until she was sore and sated and screaming his name. But that's what her Damon would do, and that wouldn't tally with the carefully drawn boundaries she had set for this encounter. She sent a tendrils of her power out, turning on the taps and filling the bathtub with warm, scented water. She didn't miss his sharp intake of breath at the loss of her as she withdrew and led him wordlessly to the tub, trying not to look back at his hard, naked body. She moaned a little at the wonderful heat seeping into her muscles as she reclined, inviting him in after her. She turned him to face away from her and leaned him back into her. She took a sponge and started to clean his chest with one hand, the other drawing idle, taunting circles at his hip. When she spoke, her mouth was an inch at most from his ear. 

"You did well, Damon." She pressed a kiss at his throat and savoured how he swallowed thickly. "I was thoroughly satisfied." 

"Thank you." His voice came out almost evenly.

"Would you like your reward?" Her hand went from his hip rubbing down the inside of his thigh, carefully avoiding where she knew he was dying for her touch.

"Yes... Please."

 _Damn_ , she was hoping to be able to warn him about his manners.

 

She put down the sponge and devoted both hands to the task. She took him in her right hand and stroked roughly, running her left over his stomach, his thighs, squeezing his balls lightly. His breathing was heavy and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he enjoyed her ministrations. She ran her tongue and teeth over his throat and heard him keen desperately. This was the visual she had wanted. Her equivalent of the polaroid he took of her. He thrust wantonly into her hand, and she brought her other hand up to massage his scrote and felt it tighten in her hand. She had taunted him for so long, and he was so close.

"Please. Miss Bennett, please." 

His voice was breathy and ragged and he was shaking. It took her a second to register that she hadn't given her permission, and he was dutifully holding off for her go ahead. The thought of his self control hanging so thinly was enough to make her want to stop and ride him all over again, but she wasn't that cruel.

"You can finish, Damon. I want you to."

She had barely exhaled the last syllable when his body began to contract, and he was spilling over her hand. She used her magic to clean the water as she soothed him through the aftershocks, murmuring soft praise in his ear. _"Shh, you did so well"_. He relaxed back against her in pure bliss and relief and she pressed a reassuring kiss to his neck. It was in this moment of quiet that it came to her:

 

She knew how to get them home.


	23. Love, Sex, Magic

Bonnie could have sworn her heart stopped for a split second. She ran the steps over in her mind, and confirmed it to herself: Yes, this would work. She would see her friends again, meet new people, hear new music... And it could be done as quickly as tomorrow. Truthfully, she had given up hope months ago, had never dared to let herself hope. She was so caught up in her elation that she forgot about the vampire between her legs until he shifted against her.

 

And just like that, the elation vanished like a wisp of smoke, replaced by a trepidation she didn't fully understand. She looked at the ball of raven hair rested against her and her chest tightened. If they go home, he goes back to Elena, and their little bubble of happiness bursts. This could be the last time they are intimate with one another: It definitely _should_ be. But the thought of his hands on someone else, even if it was her best friend and the love of his life, made her feel sick. The thought of him telling Elena how much he missed her, how much he loves her... She couldn't bear it. Bonnie didn't understand why that thought affected her so much - it had been purely physical between them, and that was by mutual agreement - but she couldn't deny that it did. It hit her like a truck that at some indeterminate point her feelings for him had evolved beyond lust and friendship. But the Damon in front of her didn't know that he belonged to someone else. He didn't have the weight of their secret life on him. He would do whatever she asked of him... And he wouldn't remember any of this. The real Damon could never know, but maybe she could have a consolation prize. Bonnie knew it was wrong, but she had to know how it felt. Just once.

 

"Damon?" Her voice came out shakier than she intended, so she inflected it with all the steel she could muster. "I have another task for you before you go."

He turned himself to face her.

"Have I done something wrong? Was I not... Did I not please you?"

His sweetness made what she was about to do even worse.

"No, it's not that at all. I need... Just don't ask questions and do this for me, okay?" He nodded grimly, no doubt wondering what other perversions she had in store for him. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you." He responded without hesitation and didn't sound insincere, but all she could picture was him saying it to Elena.

"Call me by my name. Call me Bonnie."

"I love you, Bonnie."

The accent was slightly off, the tone more clipped and formal than her Damon (she reminded herself he was never _hers_ ), but it was better than nothing. 

"Again."

"I love you, Bonnie."

She let it wash over her and she felt pathetic, but if this was the only way she would ever hear it from him, ever get the chance to know how it felt, she would take what pieces she could get. "Good. Just like that." He would never know, she reminded herself. She swallowed her pride. Every time the doubt swelled in her, she reminded herself: _Just once_. "I want you to treat me like I'm your whole world, like you would hold up the sky for me. Make love to me. Make it real. Please. And when we're done, just hold me. Can you do that?"

 

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he cupped her cheek gently in his hand, his thumb brushing away the single tear that she hadn't noticed had fallen. The way he looked into her eyes was reverent, and she could almost believe he did actually love her as he took her mouth in a searing kiss. She did her best to lose herself in the fantasy as he stood in the tub, lifting her gently in his arms and carrying her (still soaking) over to the fire, kissing her every step of the way. He set her down on the rug like she was made of glass, lowering himself down over her. He entered her in one slow but powerful stroke and held her close to him as he moved in her. Whenever his kiss broke away to rove down her neck, by her ear, onto her collarbone, he would mutter to her:

"I love you, Bonnie."

Over and over like a prayer. Slight variations in how he said it each time, but it still wasn't right. She thought she could hear her own heart breaking in her chest, because despite his convincing performance, this wasn't real. Sometimes he would look at her with such authentic adoration in his eyes, she couldn't stand it and had to look away. Her body reacted as it always did to him, warming and responsive to his touch regardless of her dark mood, but while her body had already got there, her mind was standing in the way of her release. Until finally, when he said it, the inflection was perfect, the tone just right. It sounded like him.

"I love you, Bonnie." 

Her body rippled and she muffled her cries with his shoulder. Evidently, it was enough to bring him to his own release, as he shuddered with her. She didn't try and stop the tears as they fell, and as promised, he just moved himself beside her and held her silently as she cried.

 

When his breathing deepened and he was sleeping soundly, Bonnie went to there bathroom to clean herself up. She couldn't bring herself to look into her own eyes in the mirror - she was disgusted with herself. All the things they had done together these past months, and she had never felt ashamed like this. She washed herself, wiped the tears from her face, and threw on some clothes before heading downstairs, leaving Damon sleeping by the fire. She set one up of her own in the library, and sat with a grimoire she pretended to read while she waited for him to wake as himself again.

 

Daylight broke through the curtains, and eventually she heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Well I woke up naked on the floor and clocked the improvised restraints on the bed posts, so I'm guessing we had fun last night-" His face fell as he rounded the corner and caught a look at her. She must have looked worse than she thought. He was bright and jovial, and she couldn't even look him in the eye. "What's up?"

"I thought of a way home."

"What? Bon that's amazing! But that doesn't explain why you look like someone ran over your dog. If you have to die again or something then forget it, we'll wait for the next train."

"It's nothing like that, I'm just exhausted. After... Y'know... I was up all night reading up get my facts straight." The lie rolled off her tongue too easily.

"Okay, but I need my witch fully functional. Last thing we need is dead batteries halfway to Presentville, so what needs doing? I can be doing prep stuff while you get some food and sleep. It'll probably take you a few days to practice and summon the juice, right?"

She couldn't handle a few days. She had to get out of here.

"No, it has to be today. Besides, you'll be doing some of the work, so it's not all on me."

He stiffened for a moment like he was going to argue, before relaxing his posture and sitting opposite her.

"Okay, so how do we brew this mojo?"

She was glad he didn't question her reasons. 

"It's a mix of your memory walking tricks and the focal object regression spell we did yesterday. We're going to use my old Teddy bear Miss Cuddles to form a link with past Bonnie and borrow her magic. We then use your link to me to make sure I don't end up stuck as a two year old and I slingshot us out of here via the connection to Miss Cuddles in the real world."

He looked at her like she was speaking Chinese.

"Okay, I'm gonna pretend that made some kind of sense and ask some prudent questions. Isn't this time's Bonnie like 2? And weren't you so excited to see Miss Cuddles here because Caroline buried her in the woods in our world? Won't we end up buried in the woods with her?"

"Maybe, but we were little kids. She can't have buried her that deep. And even as a toddler, I had the magic in me. It's there. This is our shot, Damon. We have to take it."

She held her breath for a moment while she waited for his reply.

"Well then, let's go home."


	24. Home Again

The spell was tricky, and Bonnie had a nosebleed by the time they thudded into the earth in the dark Mystic Falls woods. 

"Well, we made it in one piece." 

"Wait, was there ever a possibility of that not being the case? Because that feels like something you should have mentioned before slingshotting us across dimensions."

"Oh shut up. I'm trying to figure out if it worked. Can you hear anything?"

"The sound of self righteous witchy babbling aside? I hear..." A smile spread across his face. "Wildlife. Cars. Non-90's radio. Sounds like... Success."

Her lip wobbled a little.

"We really did it?"

He pulled her into a hug.

"You did it, Bon"

For a moment, she was floating on air, but then reality set in, and him being so close just felt like too much. She eased out of the embrace.

"We shouldn't... You can't do that anymore, remember? "

"I can't what? Hug my best friend?"

"No. I mean, yes you can hug me but..."

"Look I know the deal, what happens in Vegas etcetera. But do you really want me to act like we aren't even friends? Like nothing changed over there? Do you want to go back to barely tolerating each other and vague contempt? Because I sure as hell don't."

He looked hurt. He wasn't wrong: They had agreed when everything started not to acknowledge it once they got home, but going back to their cold war style stand off wasn't an option either. 

"You're right. I overreacted. This is just... It's a lot to take in, you know?" She paused for a second. "Will they... Will they be able to smell us on each other?"

His nostrils flared, as if taking in the scent for himself.

"Nah, there's no trace left. Must be an effect of the tearing across space time, we just smell like wind and dirt right now. Guess that saves an awkward conversation." He scented the air again and looked like he was listening intently. "We're about a quarter mile from the Boarding House. I can hear at least 2 voices there, maybe 3. Shall we go crash the party?" 

Part of her wanted to high-tail it in the other direction, knowing full well one of those voices was likely to belong to Elena, but she put on her best Damon smirk. 

"Like it's a party without us anyway."

 

As it turned out, none of the voices belonged to Elena. Caroline opened the door, and her shriek summoned Stefan and Ric at vamp speed to see what threat had turned up at their door. Caroline attached herself like a limpet to Bonnie as soon as she clapped eyes on her, and Stefan and Ric were both looking at Damon like he was the tooth fairy. 

"Where's my girly fanfare?" He gestured to where Caroline was sobbing into Bonnie's shoulder next to him. "You'd think my little bro and my drinking buddy would be happier to see me." 

Stefan snapped out of it first and put his arms around him in greeting. 

"We thought you were..."

"Dead? Wouldn't be the first time, brother. I got over it."

When Stefan finally let him go, Ric was waiting for him with a glass of bourbon, which he took gladly. 

"I knew there was a reason I missed you." 

"It's good to have you back, Damon." 

"Not that I'm not satisfied with my welcoming committee, but where's Elena?"

Bonnie felt the name like a dagger through her heart, but she didn't miss how Caroline tensed when her name was mentioned. 

"Come in Bonnie, let's get you cleaned up and you can tell me what the hell happened." Bonnie didn't miss the flash in Caroline's eyes that said _'you don't want to be here for this conversation_ ', so she reluctantly let Caroline lead her up the stairs. She heard Ric pour Damon another drink and tell him he was gonna need it, before she was led out of earshot. 

 

\---

 

"So she just forgot about him?" 

Bonnie couldn't wrap her head around it. She had given Caroline the cliff notes version of them being trapped in 1994, obviously skipping the Damon details, but she had heard the sound of things smashing downstairs and the unmistakable sound of the Camero tearing off at high speed. It was then that Caroline had told her what Elena had done. 

"It's not that simple, Bonnie. You have to understand, she was a wreck without him. If we had even the slightest inkling you guys might come back someday, maybe it would have been different, but she did what she had to do to survive."

"Yeah well not everyone had the option of taking the easy way out, Care."

"Wow, okay. I gotta say, it's beyond weird to hear you defend him like that. I guess you must have gotten pretty close if it was just the two of you over there."

She was obviously probing, but Bonnie had learned a little something about keeping her heartbeat steady around vampires.

"If you had asked me a year ago, I never would have seen us becoming friends. But he's not what I thought he was. He's just impulsive and he cares too deeply for his own good, and doesn't like people seeing the good in him."

Caroline seemed satisfied enough with that answer.

"I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Oh he absolutely will. The more reasonable hope is that what he does is idiot stupid, not murderous psychopath stupid."

Caroline giggled and caught her up on some more of Mystic Falls gossip while they waited for Damon to return.

 

\---

 

It was about 5 hours before Bonnie heard the front door creak open. Everyone else had gone to bed or left, but even if she weren't waiting up for him, Bonnie wasn't used to so much ambient noise - she doubted she could have slept, so she had sat in the corner of the library and waited. He sauntered up to the bourbon table and poured himself a healthy slug. He was swaying a little. How much did a vampire even need to drink to get that drunk? 

"Figured you and Caroline would have stayed up braiding each others hair."

She smiled. Of course he knew she was there.

"I told you that you'd be invited to all future girly sleepovers. Like I'd start without you."

He slumped next to her. She tried not to move away, but just having him so close was hard. 

"So I guess Blondie told you all the gory details."

"She did. Even showed me a pic of the new guy." 

He looked dejected. "And?"

"Definite downgrade. He looks like Tyler's less attractive cousin from Maryland." A half-hearted laugh escaped him. "What are you gonna do?"

"Well Ric says the compulsion is irreversible, and I'm guessing that disembowelling the new guy with gardening shears and burying him in 4 different places won't go over well, so I'm officially out of ideas." He took a swig. "Stef's gonna break the news to her tomorrow that I'm back. Ball's in her court I guess."

"You didn't go to see her tonight?" Bonnie was surprised. That was exactly the kind of rash, impulsive thing she would have expected him to do. 

"Nope. I figured that the dead ex that she doesn't remember ever loving showing up on her doorstep was a recipe for 'go to hell, Damon'. Well, at least the record's changed from that timeless favourite 'it'll always be Stefan'. Thank heavens for small mercies."

In spite of her own heartache, she felt bad for him. She never would have wanted this for him.

"If it makes you feel better, Jeremy apparently has a day drinking problem to rival yours. And the clap. For the second time. Who picks up a date at the GUM clinic?"

He didn't say anything, just thrust the glass of bourbon at her. She took it from him and they drank in silence for a while, him pouring more into the glass that they passed back and forth between them. Eventually, she decided there was little she could do for him that Jim Beam and Jack Daniels couldn't, so she went to turn in. She had already claimed the guest room that was hers in the prison world.

"Damon?"

"Yeah?"

She had to say it, even though it pained her to. 

"She might not know it right now, but you're the best thing that ever happened to her. You just have to remind her of that."

She wiped the silent tear from her face as she padded silently up the stairs.


	25. Breaking Point

The revamped Grill was packed to the rafters - a football game had just kicked out evidently. Bonnie swiftly downed the dregs of her apple martini, heading back to the dancefloor. She was pleasantly buzzed - had to be to get through the evening. It was three weeks since their return, and Elena had confided in Bonnie and Caroline today that she had dumped Liam to explore her feelings for Damon. She knew that what was between them had to have been strong to have affected her the way it did, and though she didn't feel it anymore, the curiosity was killing her. She was going to tell him tonight, and had asked the two of them to be there to support her. Bonnie had smiled sweetly and said "Of course", but inside she was in turmoil. She hated that she wasn't happier for her best friends.

 

Damon was propping up the bar with Ric (some things would never change), and Care was trying (and failing) to convince Stefan to dance. That left Bonnie, Matt and Elena on the dancefloor. Matt and Elena were dancing - Matt was just there for a good time, but she got the impression Elena was just trying to make Damon jealous, and rolled her eyes at the attempt - like it was even necessary to torment the poor guy more. She felt a guy brush up behind her and put his hands on her waist and she smiled. A glance at Elena and she gave the signal that he was a hottie, and from the glance she gave behind her, she could see that he was good looking enough: An athlete's body, chocolate brown skin, chiselled jaw. Since her return, she had taken a few guys home after nights at the grill. The sex averaged out at mediocre, and all blurred together, but she had moved back into her grams' old place, and hated sleeping alone. Nothing dulled the ache she felt when she thought of those stolen nights (and afternoons, and mornings) with Damon, but she kept trying. It seemed she wouldn't have to look far for someone tonight, at least. The song changed and _Despacito_ gave way to Rihanna's _S &M_ \- perfect for grinding up against the guy who definitely wasn't 'Mr Right', but was a good candidate for 'Mr Right Now'. She was in need of another drink, and eyed her route to the bar. Damon was looking daggers in their direction, so Elena's efforts to make him jealous had obviously worked. As the song came to an end, she told the guy she would be right back, and sidled her way between Damon and Ric, ordering another apple martini.

"Careful, Bon, you drink many more of those and you won't be able to get The Jockinator's pants off later."

"Yes, mom. I'm surprised they have any booze left anyway with you two barflies taking up residence."

"Meow, my bestie has claws." He slipped a bill to the bartender without breaking eye contact. She tried to ignore the look that made her feel practically naked. "Use protection and don't do anything I wouldn't do." He finished with a wink. _Prick_.  
"If memory serves, you once told me that rules out furries, watersports, and pudding. Plenty of scope left. Have a nice night."

 

\---

 

"I just don't get it. Even when he was crazy evil murder guy, he was all over me. Now I could do a fan dance in stripper heels and he wouldn't even look my way."

"But 'Lena honey, weren't you just saying yesterday that you still didn't feel anything warm and fuzzy for him?" Care was painting Elena's nails while Bonnie pretended to read her copy of Cosmo instead of fantasising about killing her friend with an eyelash curler. This sleepover was a horrible idea, but it had been a couple months since Elena and Damon had started dating again, and she apparently needed to vent.

"I don't, but I'm still a red blooded woman. Even when I hated him, I found him attractive, and I thought maybe if we rekindled the physical side of things, the rest might come back to me. We talk and everything, but I'm done talking. Everyone tells me we used to go days without leaving the house, and seeing as half the female population of Mystic Falls brags about his skills it seems like a sure bet. Maybe that kind of connection is just hard-wired, you know? Or maybe I'm wrong and we hook up and the spark just isn't there, and I can end it there and then before I waste any more time. But I'm never going to find out if I can't even get his attention. "  
"And maybe what you need is a trashy novel and a vibrator, not a narcissistic man-whore with anger management issues."

"Okay, can I hear from someone who isn't the president of the 'we hate Damon' club? Bonnie, you guys are close, what do you think?"

"About what?" She pretended not to have been listening.  
"Why isn't Damon responding to my advances? You guys are like friends now, has he said anything to you?"  
Bonnie frowned. Their conversations carefully avoided the topic of him and Elena, the same way they avoided talking about what they did in the prison world, and while he made occasional jibes about her bringing guys home, they never really talked about her love life either.

"He hasn't said anything. Maybe you're not being forward enough."

Elena huffed. "From what I remember, he barely ever went more than a few days without bringing some tramp home. How forward do I need to be?"

Bonnie hated the way they talked about him, but she took a breath before responding.

"He was celibate for ages when he thought Katherine went in the tomb, waiting for her, so he's not the hard-wired man-slut you make him out to be. That's just a defence mechanism. Did you ever think maybe he doesn't want to have sex with someone who barely tolerates him?"

They were both quiet for a moment, before Caroline broke the silence laughing.

"Wow, Bonnie, you must have 'gullible' written on your forehead if you really believe he was ever saving himself for Katherine. And as for sex with someone who doesn't like him, need I remind you of the Rebekah incident?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Whatever." They would believe what they wanted about him - she wasn't changing any hearts and minds in this room.

"You know, it hasn't escaped my notice, Miss Bennett, that you have been getting your fair share of dick since you got back. It's like you guys switched libidos or something."

Great, another conversation she didn't want to have. She ignored Caroline's vulgar turn of phrase.

"Well dying tends to change your perspective. Life's too short to wait for The One."

"There's no judgement honey, I'm happy for you. God knows you needed to loosen up. No-one's sexual repertoire would be complete with just their best friend's little brother. No offence Elena."

"Ew. None taken I guess. Can we get back to my crisis now please? Help me find some boss bitch lingerie online."

The only thing Bonnie wanted to do less than talk about her new-found promiscuity was to help her best friend pick out underwear to seduce the guy she herself wanted.

"I'm kinda tired, but I don't want to ruin your night. I think I'm gonna head home if that's okay?"

"Sure sweetie, see you tomorrow."

"Sweet dreams!"

Bonnie tried not to slam the door behind her.

 

Instead of heading home, she went to The Grill. There was still an hour or so til closing, so she had time to find someone to spend the night with. _Slim pickings though_ , she thought as she scanned the crowd. A guy at the bar caught her eye - he was a little older than she usually went for, but he had dirty blond hair and wore a beaten up leather jacket with fingerless gloves, with the 'bad boy' thing going on that was apparently her new type. She slid onto the bar stool next to him, and as she brushed his arm 'accidentally' to get his attention, she got that dark, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach (what Damon had called her _'Witchy_ _Spidey Sense'_ ): He was a vampire. Bonnie didn't remember the conversation, or what she had said to get him to follow her to the alley. All she could think of was the feeling when Damon had fed on her and the world had fallen away and all there was was bliss: She would give anything to feel that again. As they rounded the corner, that was what went through her head as a tendril of her power threw him against a wall. Since her return, she hadn't needed vampire blood to bring forth her powers: A fact she used to her advantage as she put the squeeze on the vampire whose name she had already forgotten.

"Witch." He croaked out as he struggled against her power. "I knew you smelled too good to be true."  
"Listen carefully. Today is your lucky day. I'm going to let you feed from me." To his credit, the guy looked sceptical. "I know you can make it feel good. So I let you feed, you take just enough, then you give me a little blood and I let you go. Can you work with that?" He nodded his assent and she let him loose as she undid the topmost buttons of her shirt, exposing her throat. Deep down, she knew this was fucked up, but she had to try. There had to be something out there to stop her feeling like _this_.

 

A tear slid down her neck at what she had been reduced to as his fangs slid into her neck like a knife through warm butter. She didn't even feel the pinch anymore. She felt the draw and waited. When it came, it wasn't nearly the same, but it was something. Her burdens lifted and drop by drop, she forgot her pain, until she didn't feel much at all. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he was taking too much, knew she should fling an aneurysm his way, but she was still waiting for the euphoria to hit. She felt a brisk jolt as whatshisname was pulled off of her by insistent hands. She heard the sounds of struggle and opened her eyes just quickly enough to see Damon ripping his heart out. She went to object - to yell at him for killing her buzz, but fell forwards dizzy with blood loss. She couldn't have been more than a few seconds from unconsciousness. She was barely aware of Damon dropping the guy and biting into his own wrist, bringing it to her mouth.

"What the hell was that? Why didn't you migraine the fucker? You almost died. Are you listening Bon? How could you be so stupid?"

He withdrew his wrist and steadied her head, checking her over for any further injury. When he didn't find any, he rested his forehead against hers in blatant relief, and she tried to ignore the closeness of his lips.

"I saw you come out here with him. You knew what he was, you had to. What were you thinking?" He drew back, his anger apparently resurrected with her consciousness.

"It was nothing. It doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ. My best friend throwing herself to some hungry lowlife bloodsucker is not nothing. Talk to me, Bon."

"I can't Damon. I can't talk to you about this."  
"Really? After everything we've been through what could you possibly think..." Something like pain blossomed on his face. "Did you... Did you want him to kill you?"

She thought back to those earlier days in the prison world and their pact with the suicide bourbon, and knew that same conversation was what was playing in his mind, too.

"No. Not exactly." She breathed in. He looked confused, but he wasn't going to let this go. "I just wanted to feel something." Her tears fell freely as she admitted it.

"So take home another varsity asshole and let him show you a good time. Don't make yourself a vampire happy meal."  
"It doesn't help. Don't you get it? None of it helps. I haven't felt alive for a second since we've been back. I miss you. God, I miss you so much it aches. All I feel, every minute of every day, is your absence and it's killing me."

The shock on his face matched hers as she realised the implication of what she had said aloud. She could practically see him running the words over in his head - trying to figure out if he'd misheard somehow. She squeezed her eyes shut and slid down the wall, hugging her knees as she cried. A moment later, she felt rather than saw him sit beside her. When she opened her eyes, his eyes were focussed straight ahead and he was offering her his hipflask. Bourbon was really his answer to everything. She couldn't even muster a mirthless laugh as she drank as much as she could down in one go without puking. It tasted awful.

"Eurgh. That aftertaste...." Her eyes flashed open. She would know that bitter, grassy taste anywhere: Witch hazel. _No_. She looked at him and saw the silver lining his eyes as he locked his gaze with hers and she felt his control on her mind.

 

"Bonnie Bennett. You are by far the best thing that ever happened to me. In fact, if it wasn't for your goodie two shoes influence, I would probably be selfish enough not to be doing this right now." She felt his thumb brush her tears away and wished desperately she could do the same for him. "I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, but I won't let you risk your life because of me. You are worth so much more than that. I need you to listen to me now." She fought like hell not to pay attention, to break his gaze, but she couldn't. "We got trapped in a prison world together. We spent a few months arguing and grating on one another. I cheated at monopoly and drank all the time, and you hated every minute of it." _It's not true, IT'S NOT TRUE_. She screamed at herself. "You are going to tell your friends that you need some space and that you're going out of town for a while. You're gonna pack a bag, and put Mystic Falls in your rear view and not look back until you find somewhere nothing goes bump in the night. You're going to find a nice, normal, safe guy to settle down with, maybe have a couple rugrats, and you'll be happy." She silently begged him not to do this. "You're gonna put a tiny pinch of witch hazel in your coffee every morning without noticing - just enough so that the compulsion never breaks, but not so much you can't use your magic if you want to. And if anyone mentions the name 'Damon Salvatore' to you, you're just gonna think 'that guy was an asshole', and that'll be the end of it. But you'll always know" he placed a reverent kiss on her forehead and she heard his voice crack with emotion as he spoke, "that there's someone out there who loved you enough to let you go. You're gonna count to ten, then I'll be gone, and you'll forget this conversation. Goodbye, Bonnie."

 

For ten seconds, Bonnie sobbed and screamed at him not to leave her, but then she quieted. She was hazy on why she was on the floor alone in a dirty alley, but was vaguely aware of the taste of some janky alcohol in her mouth, and made a mental note to cut back on the booze. She went home and packed her bag, because she had a sudden urge to get the hell out of this Starbucks-less town and live her life.


	26. A New Life

Bonnie was thumbing idly through the pages of her latest 'book club' read: It was some terrible paranormal romance that would probably scandalise the older housewives in the group and make the younger ones who had grown up on Twilight swoon (in fact, it had been chosen by their youngest member). For Bonnie, the whole thing was just an unwelcome reminder of the small Virginia town she had left behind four years ago. Not that the small Texas town she was in now was hugely different (apart from the fact it actually had decent coffee shops and a significant amount less 'animal attacks'). To this day, she still didn't know what had possessed her to pack her bags and leave on a whim, but she was thankful she had. She had left a forwarding address and emergency number with Ric, under strict instructions that her friends never get their hands on it (she loved them all: Elena, Caroline, Matt, Tyler, even Stefan. But leaving them was the best thing she could have done for her own wellbeing). The book hinged on the overplayed sexy bad boy vampire trope which just made Bonnie want to roll her eyes. It just made her think of Damon: The psychopath she had been forced to spend months rotting in a prison world with. What an asshole.

 

"Hey babe. Is there coffee?"

Her fiancé, Martin, kissed the top of her head as he swooped into the kitchen, leaning down to kiss her stomach before heading to the pot to pour himself a cup. She was only six weeks gone, but the morning sickness had arrived with a vengeance. She had switched to decaf, and was struggling to keep even that down. Martin, ever the martyr, had insisted on switching with her so they didn't have to make two pots every morning. She had shown him the positive test the morning she had taken it, unsure how she felt about it. He had asked her to marry him the same night. She didn't know if he already had the ring and was waiting for the right time or if he'd gone and bought it because of the news, but she had immediately said yes regardless. The ring wasn't 100% her taste, but on paper neither was Martin, so she wore it proudly. They didn't have much in common, and he was kind of boring - safe, even - but she felt oddly content with him. She guessed that was what love felt like.

"Still reading that godawful book?"

"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment. Besides, I can't just skip a book because I don't like it. That's basically ignoring the point of a book club."

"Well, make the most of your day off. Set up the foot spa, eat garbagey snacks, and power through it till you finish. Like ripping off a band aid." He gave her a quick kiss. "Gotta motor. See you at 6. Meatloaf for dinner?"

She hated his mom's recipe for meatloaf: It tasted like barbecued cardboard, but it was convenient and so far one of the few things she could keep down.

"Sure. See you later."

She took another long sip of her coffee as the door shut, but felt a sensation that was getting infuriatingly familiar as she headed to the bathroom and threw up for the third time that morning. It was gonna be a long day.

 

\---

 

That night, she found herself staring absently at the ceiling as Martin worked between her thighs. An hour ago she had been almost painfully horny; now, she was just feeling off. Pregnancy hormones were delightful that way. He was doing everything he normally did and most of the time that was enough to get her there (their sex life would never feature in a Cosmo article or anything, but it did the job), but now she was barely even in the moment. He moved to kiss her neck and she felt a tingle as he did. She held his head in place and pushed down a little.

"Right there."

It was better, but she wasn't seeing stars or anything. She wasn't sure it was even her own voice when she asked him to bite her.

He lifted his head up.

"Come again?"

"I said bite me. Please."

He looked at her like she had just asked him to dress up as a German milkmaid, but did as she asked. Too gently, but she could feel herself building.

"Harder." Still nowhere near hard enough. "Harder."

It was just enough to get her there, and her orgasm was over too quickly, and somehow still left her feeling unsatisfied. He came a minute or so later, and rolled off her sweating. Something about it just made her feel queasy.

"So it looks like SOMEONE is getting into that vampire smut after all."

She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to go to sleep.

"Don't be ridiculous, I just felt like trying something is all."

"Uh-huh. Well I hope you have some truly magical makeup to cover that hickey before Julia's Christening tomorrow. I was going to tell my family the good news at the after party, and best not to tell them while you look like you've been making out with The Count."

Stealing a baby's thunder? Classy. She had never told him about her magic. Probably never would. Anyway, to her knowledge there was no magical answer to hickeys. Yesterday she had been looking forward to the family gathering, but today the domesticity of it all just made her want to throw up. Or maybe that was just the meatloaf. She groggily made her way to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, admiring the lovebite just a little before climbing back into bed and falling into a fitful sleep.


	27. Waking Dreams

Bonnie's dreams were a twisted haze of sex and magic. She hadn't had dirty dreams in longer than she could remember, but these were good. _Really good_. She dreamed of pale hands and a toned, muscular body twisting and writhing with hers, their skin the most delicious contrast. The scenes changed faster than she could keep up with: One moment she was watching his back muscles ripple in a fogged up mirror as he had her against the shower wall, the next a tangled mass of black hair was working between her legs beside a fireplace, then muscular thighs holding her up against a tree in dark woods, then cool skin pressed up against her back as he fucked her from behind. The sensations were overwhelming and it felt like she was surfacing from underwater, like these fragments of dream were more real than anything she had experienced in years. She was keening, desperate for more, but then the scenes started to flicker rapidly before her: Every one that she had seen so far, but this time she could see his eyes, his smirk, that fallen angel's face.

Damon.

Then she saw him plunge his fangs into her, drawing her blood over and over like a never ending nightmare. Pouring his own blood down her throat, too. She braced for the pain and the horror, but instead there was bliss - satisfaction - and she didn't know whether to be relieved or revolted.

 

She woke with a start, drenched with cold sweat, but even though she was awake, the dreams kept coming. Not just of sex now, but conversations, laughter, moment after charged moment rushing into her brain all at once. She fought to breathe, to filter them, but they just kept coming. Then one came through loud and clear over the others:

"...Bonnie Bennett, you are by far the best thing that ever happened to me..."

"...Won't let you risk your life..."

"...You are worth so much more..."

"...Loved you enough to let you go..."

These weren't dreams, weren't nightmares. They were memories.

She struggled to her feet, but stumbled and fell into the wall, clutching her stomach in agony. Her fall must have woken Martin, who was at her side in an instant.

"Bonnie, what happened?"

He had compelled her. She had loved him and he had wished it away. Compelled her away so that he would be free to love her best friend.

"Honey are you okay? Talk to me."

The voice was all wrong, it wasn't the voice she yearned to hear, in spite of everything. She looked at the man she was engaged to marry, the father of her unborn child, and felt nothing. He was like a stranger. She wanted to scream but nothing came out. And the pain increased.

"Oh god, you're bleeding. Stay calm, I'm gonna call an ambulance."

She looked down and was vaguely aware of the warm wetness of blood between her legs. She should be panicking for her baby, but all she could think of was him.

Then everything went black.

 

\---

 

When Bonnie woke up, she was surrounded by sterile white and it burned her eyes. Everything was too bright. At least she knew she wasn't dead again - Death was never that clean.

"Hey." She felt a warm, bracing hand on her shoulder. "Take it slow."

She knew that voice. "Ric?"

"Well that's the first test done. Now who's president?"

"Ask me something with a less depressing answer."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Oh yeah, you're gonna be fine."

Ever so slowly, she blinked her eyes open at the harsh light. Ric was sat by her bedside, sporting exactly like the dowdy-but-kind-of-hot supply teacher look she remembered. Martin was, thankfully, absent. Ric followed her gaze as she searched the room.

"I sensed you were coming around and suggested he go get a coffee. Wasn't sure if you would want him here when you woke up."

Bonnie felt the compelled memories warring with her real ones and fading away one by one. She must have looked green because Ric shoved a kidney bowl at her just in time for her to throw up all over again.

"You knew, didn't you?" She asked in disbelief.

He sighed. "I figured something was up when you came to give me your emergency number. I mentioned something about Damon and your eyes did that glassy compelled thing and you called him an asshole and left. I confronted him and he told me everything, I hit him a bunch, but I swore I'd stay out of it. I checked in on you a few months down the line and you seemed so happy, I figured it was the right thing to do." He looked at her cautiously. "What broke the compulsion?"

"Morning sickness. I couldn't keep the herbs down." Then she remembered. "The baby?"

Ric looked crestfallen as he shook his head. "I'm so sorry Bonnie. I had no idea this was even a possibility."

Bonnie expected to feel devastation, emptiness, but she felt nothing. If anything, relief. She didn't love Martin, and she had never wanted this baby. Not really. She didn't think she could have handled having to go for a termination on top of everything. Ric turned his head slightly.

"I hear him coming back. Do you want..."

"I can't... Can you get rid of him? Please?" He got up to intercept the poor guy before he made it to the room. "Ric. Can you... He shouldn't have to remember this. Can you compel him for me? Make him believe our relationship ended okay?"

Ric looked surprised, but left to do as she asked. She guessed she of all people asking him to compel someone to forget a relationship must have sounded awful, but she couldn't handle this right now.

 

When he came back in the room and told her it was done, it was like a weight had been lifted.

"What will you do now?"

Bonnie sighed. "Honestly, I have no idea."

"You're welcome to come back with me, if that's what you want..."

"No." Her stomach lurched at the thought of being around her friends again. Just the thought of the Boarding House made her want to weep for days, and that was without having to see how deliriously happy Damon and Elena had become in her absence.

"It's okay, I get it." He looked like he was wondering what to say. "They're gonna want to keep you in for a day or so. I could go to your place, clear out whatshisname's stuff if that would help?"

She smiled. "That would be great. Thanks, Ric."

He called her later to tell her it was done, and she said her goodbyes on the phone, insisting she would be okay and just wanted some time to process things. He left with the promise she would call him once a week to check in.


	28. Can You Ever Go Home?

By the time Bonnie was discharged from the hospital the next day, she was thoroughly sick of her own company, but didn't have anyone else to turn to. All her friends in the area didn't know her at all - not really. And her friends in Mystic Falls... She couldn't open that can of worms yet. So when she pushed open the door to her empty house, she collapsed on the sofa and just sat in silence for a while. Where do you start rebuilding when the last 4 years of your life are a lie?

 

It was then that Bonnie spotted the pile of mail on the kitchen counter. She binned 3 letters addressed to Martin without opening them, along with some junk mail and catalogues. A white envelope with fancy paper caught her eye - she thought she recognised Elena's handwriting on the envelope. As she opened it, her heart sank to her feet. Tucked behind the letter was what was quite clearly a wedding invitation. Not able to face it, she read the letter instead.

 

_"Dear Bonnie,_

_Please don't be mad at Ric. He went out of town suddenly, so Care and I took the opportunity to break into his desk and steal the 'in case of emergency' address he thinks we don't know he has for you._

_I miss you so much (Care says I have to tell you she misses you too, but I miss you more). I know you are off living your life and have your reasons for staying away, but I need you to know that._

_Anyway, as if the enclosed invite isn't a dead giveaway, I'm getting married! Care is basically Wedding-Planner-Zilla, and she is a little scary right now, but I don't know what I'd do without her. But what I really need is a Maid of Honour, and there is only one person who can fill those shoes._

_Please at least think about it. I know you'll be with me in spirit if not in person, but I would give anything to have you there._

_Your BFF,_

_Elena_

_xxxxxx"_

 

Bonnie pulled out a Kleenex to wipe away her tears. She did miss her friends, and never in a million years did she think she would even contemplate missing one of their weddings. She could just imagine the nightmare of sparkles, tulle, and flowers Caroline and Elena would conjure up unchecked, and it would almost be worth the heartache for the inevitable look on Damon's face at the volume of glitter. But then she would also have to see his adoration as he watched his bride walk down the aisle, and she didn't think anything in the world could be worth that pain. But Elena was her best friend. Once upon a time, so was Damon; and in spite of what he'd done, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. Anyway, before she could even consider going she had to brave opening the smaller envelope. If she couldn't face seeing their names together in calligraphy, how could she face seeing them in person?

 

She should do it fast. Like ripping off a band aid. One... Two... Three. She tore the card out of the envelope and forced herself to open her eyes.

 

_'You are invited to celebrate the marriage of Elena and Liam'_

 

Wait, Liam? As in Dr Downgrade? She read it and re-read it, expecting her fragmented mind to be hallucinating, but the letters never reformed into the name she expected. It was there in black and white. 'Elena and Liam'.

 

She picked up her phone and her fingers hovered over the keys. Who could she call? She couldn't call Elena or Caroline, not yet. Ric obviously wasn't telling her everything. She couldn't speak to Stefan, that was too close for comfort. Tentatively, she scrolled down until she found Matt's number. He answered after 5 rings.

"Sheriff Donavan."

She smiled. "Sheriff? Wow, looks like we have some catching up to do."

"Bonnie?! Is that really you?" His voice was warm and genuine, and she didn't realise how much she had missed her sweet friend.

"Yeah Matt, it's really me. How are you?"

"I'm good. So much has happened, there's a ton to tell you, but Caroline's your girl for details. Anyway screw this place, how are you? Where are you? How have you been?"

She took in a breath. "It's complicated, and I can't get into it right now."

"Okay, so what can I do for you?"

Here goes. "I got the invitation through for Elena's wedding."

She heard him snort a laugh. "Figures. I think if you were at the top of Everest, Care would've sent a Sherpa with your invitation. It's all her and Elena talk about nowadays."

She thought carefully about how to phrase the next bit. "I was surprised to see Liam's name on it, actually."

"They're like the perfect power couple, who else's name would you expect to see... Oh. I forgot, you left town right before he did."

"Damon left town?"

"Yeah. A couple days after you took off, I think he drank every drop of bourbon in Mystic Falls before he went off the rails. Left a trail of bodies all the way to Richmond, then we lost track. Figured he got on a plane to somewhere far away. We haven't seen or heard from him since. Stefan looked for a while, but figured if he doesn't want to be found... I guess whatever happened when you were trapped together did a number on you both."

Almost nothing had registered after 'trail of bodies'. Matt continued regardless.

"Anyway, in spite of it all, Elena's got in into her head that she wants him at the wedding. She had Stefan leave a voicemail on his old number - fat chance he even checks it. Something about closure or whatever, but personally I think she just wants to rub her happiness in his face. I just wish she could find a way to do it that didn't involve inviting yet another serial killer to my damn town." He sighed." Look, I'm sorry you had to hear this from me. I know the two of you were friends."

_Friends._

_Closure._

_Trail of bodies_.

The words all rattled around in her head, but right now she was just trying to process it all. From the fact he had apparently never reconciled with Elena, to the blood bender that was just coincidentally timed with her leaving town, to the incredibly slim chance that if she went to the wedding, she might just see him again. 

"Thanks, Mattie. I have to go now, I have a couple other calls to make, and I get the feeling Care is gonna keep me on the phone till I'm old and wrinkly. But I'll see you soon, okay?" 

"Glad to hear it. I missed you. Catch you later, Bon."

 

Bonnie took a deep breath and grabbed the box of Kleenex ready before dialling Elena's number. 


	29. Everybody Loves A Wedding

Bonnie nervously fidgeted with the bouquet of flowers she was holding, as Caroline primped Elena's veil ready for her walk down the aisle. Bonnie had kept the details deliberately sparse about her absence: All her friends knew was that she had needed to get out of Mystic Falls for a while, she had met a guy but it didn't work out, and that she wasn't sure yet about coming home for good, but hadn't ruled it out. She had peeked into the small church that was packed to the rafters with friends, family, and well wishers, but it was no good: The person she was looking for was conspicuously absent. The three girls shared a slightly weepy 'you look beautiful' hug, before the telltale notes of the wedding march sounded through the doors. Bonnie felt as graceful as a duck between the two vampires as they walked down the aisle and she took her place opposite Matt, who Liam had apparently chosen as his Best Man to prevent arguments between his brothers. The priest started the service, but had barely gotten past the 'Dearly Beloved' before the door creaked noisily open. Bonnie's little gasp at the latecomer can't have been louder than a mouse's sigh, but she felt like the whole world might have heard it. 

 

Damon strutted in, obviously intoxicated and ignorant of his interruption. His designer suit was sharp as ever, his hair looked like someone's hands had been running through it, and in spite of (or perhaps enhanced by) his inebriated swagger, he was devastatingly sexy. He dipped his fingers in the font and crossed himself flashily with a ridiculous smirk plastered on his face, and when he took a seat at the back without meeting her eye, she let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Mercifully, it didn't seem he intended to cause a scene - she half expected him to crash the wedding and declare his undying love for Elena at 'speak now or forever hold your peace', but all she heard from him through the whole ceremony was a slightly-too-loud " _Don'tcha just love weddings?"_ and a snarky " _I always cry at this part_ " when they said 'I do'. When Elena and Liam had their big kiss and everyone applauded, Caroline had hissed in her ear " _What the hell is he doing?"_. She was dreading having to walk by him as they exited the church, but it seemed he saved her that trouble, as he was conspicuously absent when they made their way past.

 

They went back to the hotel suite and got Elena changed into her evening gown, before going down to the swanky reception Liam's parents had paid for. Bonnie found the whole thing to be a distasteful excuse to flaunt their wealth in front of Elena's friends, no doubt thinking their precious son had married below his station, but Caroline and Elena didn't seem to notice as they gushed about how pretty everything was. 

 

As the evening went on, it didn't take Bonnie long to locate Damon again: He was ( _quelle surprise_ ) propping up the bar. After a while, Elena had quietly asked Caroline to do something about him, as he was radiating a serious 'stay the hell away from me' vibe. He was either glaring at anyone who came near with that look that said 'I'm a serial killer, ask me how', or engaging them (male or female) in overly familiar and flirtatious conversation, and eventually no-one was willing to brave it to order any drinks. At least the lack of bodies hitting the floor meant it was likely his humanity was on. Bonnie had intercepted before Caroline could decapitate him, saying she would handle it - A decision she was quickly coming to regret. This wasn't how she wanted their reunion to go: It was way too public. Half the town would likely see her break down in tears. However, while it was far from ideal, it was necessary - it was just a matter of how to do it.

 

She could pretend she was still under compulsion, feign disdain and just move him on, but she quickly disregarded that idea: No way she could keep the act up in front of the one person who could always see right though her. She could just tell him they needed to talk, but she wasn't ready to be alone with him. That left one option she could think of. Bonnie walked over to him with more courage than she felt. She hadn't planned what she was going to say, but it came to her almost without thinking.

"Well it's Elena's wedding, not Tyler's, and there's no punch, and I don't have a date to pull into the coat closet, but that suit does definitely bring back memories." He looked at her with a clarity that said he wasn't anywhere near as drunk as he was acting. "Dance with me."

Tentatively, he stood up and offered her his hand, leading them to the dancefloor. The song was far slower and more intimate than she would have wanted, but he spun her into hold like they were the only two in the room. It may have been a last resort, but she hadn't anticipated her reaction to being back in his arms - like coming home. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You look inconceivably beautiful, if it isn't obvious." She tried to ignore that tingle running down her spine made her feel more alive than she had in years.

"Thank you."

"So this is a whole lot less hitting and psychic headaches than I would have expected."

"The night's still young. Don't push your luck."

He looked at her with something like wonder. "How did you break the compulsion?"  
Even though she hadn't wanted the life she had lost, it still pained her to think of it.

"It nearly broke me first." He quirked an eyebrow at the wounded look on her face. "Please can we just enjoy the moment for now?"

"You got it." He span her out and when she returned, her back was to him. His whisper was a low rumble in her ear and his hand at her side in a way that reminded her just how easily he could play her body like an instrument. "So isn't the Maid of Honour supposed to be getting her horizontal tango on with the Best Man?"

"Matt is Liam's Best Man."

"Right. I forgot. I'm definitely more his type."  
She smiled at the forgotten dispute. "I told you, he isn't gay."

"Ten bucks says I have him on his knees before the bouquet toss."

She laughed out loud at that in spite of herself, realising it was the first time she had properly laughed since the compulsion broke over a month ago. Possibly her first genuine laugh in much longer. It was amazing how he could have been the cause of so much of her pain and yet still be a balm to her soul.

"I think the only thing worse than you causing a scene at Elena's wedding would be her new mother-in-law discovering you _in flagrante delicto_ with the Best Man."

Bonnie felt him smile into her hair, his breath caressing her scalp.

"God, I missed this."

She swallowed dryly. "Missed what?"  
"This. Our banter, our chemistry, all of it." His hand snaked around to her stomach and she sucked in a breath. "You." 

Dangerous. This was dangerous territory.

"You should have thought about that before you sent me away." She regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth, along with the crushing pain they brought. "I need some air. Excuse me."

  
She didn't look back as she headed out into the waiting night.


	30. Love Me Again

Bonnie had to get away from the clamour, the noise. She had felt her power well up in her as the rage and grief took over and she struggled to remember how to breathe. How the hell could he have the nerve to say he missed her when it was his fault-

A whoosh of air and he had vamp sped into her path.

"Ugh, I hate it when you do that! Please, just leave me alone."

"No can do, Bon-Bon. See, that's what got us into this whole pickle in the first place. Wouldn't want you to get your panties in a bunch with me."

Her slap was hard enough that his head snapped to the side.

"Okay, I might've deserved that."

She hit him again.

"How can you possibly have the nerve to joke about this? How dare you!" She fired an aneurysm at him. Then another, and another until he dropped to the ground. "Do you have the slightest idea what it's like to have the person you trust most in the world take your emotions, and rearrange them for their convenience? To have them erase some of your happiest memories?" There was black blood flowing from his nostrils now and she could see he was trying to get to his feet, but the waves of pain kept intensifying. "To have a new life forced on you, and to actually believe you wanted it?" He was fighting to stay conscious. Her voice broke. "You took my life away so that you could have one with Elena."

He had to fight for every syllable as her unchecked power pushed to liquefy his brain as fast as he could heal it. 

"Screw... 'Lena... Did it... For you."

 

The magic sizzled in her veins as she forced the spell to stop flowing from her so he could speak. Bonnie realised then what he had done: He had intentionally cajoled her into a fight to get everything out in the open - probably so he could tease out how the compulsion broke and do it again. Bastard was playing her, and because this conversation had to happen, she would let him. 

"Really? You're gonna tell me to my face that you didn't put a stop to my inconvenient feelings for you so you could run off into the sunset with my best friend?"

He struggled to his knees, panting. "Seeing as she just finished marrying another guy, I'd say the evidence backs me up."

"Oh please, she dumped you after I left. She told me herself she was going to sleep with you and then ditch you."

"Got your wires crossed there Sabrina. She didn't dump me." He spat a mouthful of blood on the floor. "I dumped her. And for the record, I never touched her since we got back from 1994. Or anyone else, now you mention it."

That threw her for a loop.

"Then why..."

He interrupted her.

"You almost died." His voice was so choked it was almost unrecognisable. "When I found you in that alley, your heartbeat was so slow, I thought I'd already lost you. And when you told me why... For a split second it was the happiest moment of my life. But then your future flashed before my eyes. I saw years and years of bitter disappointment, first in me, and then in yourself. I saw that fire and righteousness that define you slowly fade to nothing, and I saw you spend your whole damn life putting aside everything you are to defend all the horrific, stupid things I did. I watched you share in the very worst of my self-destruction until one day you're in the wrong place at the wrong time and wind up dead because of it. I'm poison, Bon. Toxic: I ruin everything I get my hands on. I would have let you down over and over until it broke you. You deserved better than me, and damn if I was gonna let you throw your life away." He stood with obvious effort. "Sending you away was the hardest thing I ever did, and you can hate me for it all you want, but I'd do it again in a second if it gave you even a glimmer of a chance at the life you deserve. In fact, as soon as I'm certain I can make the damn compulsion stick, that's exactly what I intend to..."

"I was pregnant." 

 

She saw the adamant in his resolve crack as he processed what she said. 

"What?" His voice was barely a whisper. 

"You want to know what broke the compulsion? I was pregnant. Couldn't keep the drugged coffee down with the morning sickness. Then when my memories came crashing down like a ton of bricks and I realised that there was this foreign _thing_ invading my body, put there by a guy I didn't love, because the guy I _did_ love tricked me into it, I miscarried." She wiped a single, angry tear from her face. "Is that enough information for you to 'make it stick' this time?" 

Bonnie watched as the blankness on his face turned to guilt-ridden horror as he registered her words: Realised the unintended consequences he had wrought. 

"Bonnie..."

"Don't. I don't wanna hear your empty apologies, Damon. 'Sorry' won't fix what you broke, and it sure as hell won't give me four years of my life back." His anguish was written all over his face, his head lowered and eyes fixed on the floor. "What I do want to hear is that you get it now. That it's my life, and what I do with it, and who I love is not a decision you get to make for me." She moved closer and pulled his chin up gently so his eyes met hers. "Whether you think you deserve that love or not."

Bonnie could have sworn she saw a flash of hope as he realised she still loved him in spite of everything, but it was gone in an instant. His fingers were heartbreakingly gentle as they eased her hand away from his face. 

"No. I won't let you ruin your life for me, Bonnie. Even if... What we feel doesn't matter. I can't watch you be my collateral damage. Please don't ask me to."

 _Great, he picks now to be a martyr_.

"Listen to me." He turned his head but she grabbed him and forced him to look at her. "Listen. I am under no illusions about who or what you are. None whatsoever. You have darkness in you, I know that. But that darkness fits me in a way I never would have thought it could. Like a missing piece. And my goodness tempers you in the same way. You think you'll ruin me, taint me by association, but I'm not some Madonna to be worshipped on a pedestal, just like you're not the irredeemable monster you think you are."

"How can you say that after everything I've done?"

"Because it's true. Because I shouldn't have to sacrifice what I want just to ease your conscience." She sighed, watching him, it was like she could see it playing out in his head as his feelings waged war with his burning desire to protect her. "And a whole bunch of other reasons I just don't care about because you're close to me, and I don't want to fight anymore." She placed both her hands on his chest, letting her eyes fall to his lips. It was cold out and his slightly warmer than room-temperature body was radiating warmth through his shirt. "It's probably selfish, but I just want you to be kissing me in that way that makes me feel like we're the only two people in the world again."

Bonnie held her breath. For a second... Two seconds... Three... She looked into his eyes and watched as he warred with his own conscience. When the fingers of one hand hesitantly twined in her hair, she braced herself for another rejection. But that wasn't what she got.

"I'm definitely going to hell for this."  
When his lips crashed into hers, it was like the past four years melted and fizzled into nothing - like they had never been apart. Fireworks and rockets' red glare. Bonnie wondered how she had ever been able to mistake anything she had experienced since they had parted ways for true passion. His tongue teased at her lips, sending a lick of heat straight through her - a perfect counterpoint to the chaste way his hand caressed her face. The world around them fell away, and everything was right in the world.


	31. Epilogue

Bonnie felt the tarmac beneath her rumble with the approach of the oncoming car, and her heart thudded. It had been almost an hour, and she was starting to think no-one would come down this quiet stretch of back road. Maybe it was wishful thinking - to say she was apprehensive about this was a huge understatement, but she knew, had known for a while now, that it was something she had to do. She turned her head to face the oncoming car, which had stopped about 10ft away. The headlights were almost blinding.

 

Two high-heeled feet got out of the drivers side door and approached her.

"Oh my god, are you hurt?" When she could discern no visible sign of injury, the woman jumped to the second logical conclusion. Her hand went softly to Bonnie's shoulder "Are you... Were you trying to hurt yourself?"

Bonnie didn't say anything, but rose to her feet, trying not to look in the eyes of her would-be rescuer. Her head swam with a mix of guilt and apprehension. She noticed that the woman at least wasn't wearing a wedding ring.

"Hey, look at me." She moved Bonnie's face gently to meet her eyes. They were brown. "It's going to be okay."

Bonnie looked at her kind, concerned face, and smiled. "You're right. It might not seem like it right now, but, you'll be fine. I promise."

Confusion took over the woman's features. A flash of vamp speed, and Damon appeared behind the woman. She turned and sucked in a breath, but before she could scream.

"Shh... It's okay. You're okay. It'll be over before you know it." He looked over at Bonnie. "You sure about this?"  
"It's part of who I am now."

 

Bonnie's hands shook as she fought to reign in her new bloodlust. She had been a vampire for just over a month, and Damon had been a great teacher so far. She had never felt out of control, and while he never crowded her, he was always close enough to keep her in check. He had told her that once she could reliably drink and stop herself before she drained someone, she would have a choice. She could either go solely on to blood bags, or they could start hunting in more public places - experience feeding as a couple. He would leave the choice up to her. Much as she would love to think she would do as well as Caroline on blood bags alone, she had to admit the way Damon savoured his vampirism was enticing. She also remembered how exciting it was being his prey in the prison world, and the idea of being on the other side of that sent a thrill through her. When she had told him about it, she wondered if he would think less of her, but he had just smirked at her and kissed her in that way that always made her head spin. He never judged her, and he never would. It was then he had suggested Katherine's old game as an introduction to hunting for sport, and why she had found herself lying in the middle of a deserted road at 1am.

 

The woman was standing stock still and trembling, but Damon's eyes didn't waver from Bonnie.

"I'm right here. If you change your mind, just say the word."

"I won't. I want to do this. God, I really want to do this. It kind of scares me a little just how much."

"I get it." A knowing smile. "Take your time, I'm ready when you are.

Bonnie took in a breath before turning to face the woman. She held her gaze and sought that connection needed for glamouring - it was harder than it had looked when she was alive. It took her a moment but - there.

"When I stop talking, you are going to run for your life. We're going to chase you. When we catch you, you'll believe we're going to kill you. I'll bite you. It won't hurt, but you'll scream like it does. Once I stop, you'll drink some of my blood, and then you'll go home and forget this ever happened."

Bonnie stopped talking, the woman blinked, and set off running into the forest.

"Very nice. He slung his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "You're a natural."

She felt her body practically ignite and had to fight to resist the urge to take him there and then on the roadside. Heightened emotions she had expected, but a heightened libido with Damon around was fatal. She had always assumed that as a vampire, she would crave blood above anything else - as it was, it was a miracle she hadn't starved to the point of desiccation in that first week.

"Let's give her a minute's head start."

His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Make it ten."

"Ten? I thought the idea was to get her adrenaline pumping, not to actually let her escape."

When his lips met her neck, the spasm of lust that shocked through her would have knocked her off her feet if she weren't backed up against the abandoned car. His hand curved around her thigh, fingers brushing the seam of her pants.

"Ten minutes."


End file.
